Want it Real
by shortstackedcheesecake
Summary: When Heidi breaks up with Kyle, he purchases a game with an advanced VR add-on to help take his mind off it. He finds an unexpected release when Cartman joins him in the game, but will he end up with more than he bargained for? Inspired by the 'Striking Vipers' episode of Black Mirror. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_So, yeah, I'm back with a new multi-chapter! Ever since I watched that episode of Black Mirror I wanted to write a fic inspired by it. The emotional themes of repressed feelings, and desires, and 'what we think we should want' vs 'what we actually want' just seemed so ripe for a Kyman fic. I want to apologise in advance however, since I know zilch about gaming, and like, fight choreography? I hope you won't hold that against me in later scenes, pfft! The title is inspired by a lyric from the song 'Do You Feel it?' by Chaos Chaos. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts!_

* * *

Kyle was still fussing with his hair when the doorbell rang. He ran the faucet to get rid of some of the product off his fingers, but they were still a little greasy when he answered the door. Heidi was standing there, shoulders stiff and a little hunched but Kyle just assumed that was due to the cold.

"Hey..." she smiled, voice deflated and smile weak. Kyle didn't know how to explain that.

"Hi," he replied, his own smile soon fading into a frown. "Are you okay?"

Heidi nodded, her lips pressing together tightly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine..."

"Alright..." Kyle nodded in return, making a mental note to keep an eye on her and maybe ask the question again if she still seemed off in line for popcorn. "Um, I'll just get my jacket and we can go-"

"Actually, can I come in for a minute?"

"Sure, of course..."

He stepped aside to let Heidi in. It was such an unremarkable, simple action that they had performed countless times during the five months they had been dating, and yet the uncanny déjà vu feeling that came over Kyle was more unsettling than ever.

Heidi seemed to drift into his living room, deep in thought and with her back to him. He decided not to wait until they got popcorn to ask the question again.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Her shoulders trembled as a shaky breath escaped her mouth. When she turned around, she looked pained, like there were words bubbling behind her lips that needed to be released.

"Kyle, I think we should break up."

Kyle blinked, felt his equilibrium shift a little, but he wasn't entirely surprised. That uncanny instinct already knew what Heidi was about to say. It wasn't as if he hadn't been here before... he just never imagined it happening quite the same way.

"Oh..."

Heidi's eyes were glittering with tears.

"I'm sorry..."

Kyle shook his head, because he hated seeing her cry, and being responsible for her tears was even more excruciating.

"No, no, don't be sorry..."

"I just feel like we've been growing apart lately, and breaking up is the best thing to do," Heidi added, and it sounded just a bit rehearsed.

She had clearly been considering this for a while, which reduced the odds of winning her back to supermodel slim. Kyle didn't want to be _that_ guy, anyway. Pushy, and pathetic, and disrespectful of his (_ex_)girlfriend's choices. If Heidi didn't want to be with anymore, he had to be alright with it.

"Okay... is it anything I did?"

Heidi's lips parted, an answer forming. But she lost her nerve, lowering her head and staring at the Broflovski's carpet like she wanted to commit it to memory, the last time she would ever see it.

"No, not really..."

"What does that mean, Heidi?" Kyle asked, more impatient than he intended.

At least it got Heidi to look him in the eye again.

"Nothing!"

"If I've done something, I wanna know about it."

He felt it was unfair to leave somebody without telling them the whole truth of why it was over. He at least deserved closure, and if he had messed up then surely Heidi deserved to hear him take responsibility, right?

"Why does it matter, Kyle?" Heidi asked, crossing her arms. "It's not as if it would make a difference-"

"Well, yeah, I'm not asking the question so I can win you back," Kyle leapt in, on the defensive before he even realised it. "I'm not gonna stop you breaking up with me, if that's what you want-"

"Is that what _you_ want?"

Kyle had no idea. It wasn't as if he had time to really think about this! Half an hour ago he was looking forward to watching a movie with his girlfriend, and now he had to think about if he really wanted to be with her and... shit, he should've said no immediately. That's why Heidi was looking at him with wide, gleaming eyes, why her chin was lowered, why she had her arms folded across her chest now, wounded by his silence.

Kyle didn't think for a second that Heidi asked him the question to be manipulative. It was just her nature, to ask Kyle a lot of questions. She asked him about his classes, his extracurricular activities, about his family, and she even asked about his friends - including Cartman. She asked his mom questions about what he was like as a baby, but Kyle thought that was because they both loved an excuse to peruse his mom's hefty family photo album. She always asked what he was feeling, what he was thinking, and if he was okay. It was borne out of insecurity he knew, a lingering symptom of dating Cartman all those years ago.

When he and Heidi first got together, that notion - that he was dating Cartman's ex-girlfriend - was a significant roadblock, tainting every cute text, every hand-held stroll, those initial, tentative kisses. It led Kyle to wonder what drew him to Heidi, besides the obvious. She was pretty, and smart, and kind, sure, but they actually had very little in common besides the Cartman factor. When Heidi and Cartman were dating and he was treating her like shit, Kyle felt ferociously protective of her, and when he actually got the chance to listen to how she felt, he saw a lot of his own frustrations, naive beliefs, and fears reflected back to him. He had looked at her, and saw the part of himself he wanted to save, and maybe, seven years later, he still felt drawn to Heidi because of what she represented. That kinship was still there, eased by time, and perspective, and maturity, but still compelled him. When Kyle thought of it like that, it didn't seem like he and Heidi were something that was meant to last.

But he didn't want to tell her that. He fidgeted in the silence, knowing whatever answer he gave would be the wrong one.

"Just answer my question, Heidi. I asked you first," he finally replied. It was an out, but an honest one. "Maybe it's something I can work on in the future."

Heidi nodded, accepting that there were questions she couldn't avoid either.

"Okay... when we're together, you seem to have a really hard time being present. I know you're busy with basketball, and Debate, and all that stuff, and I can overlook it when we're just hanging out, but it's when we're..." her voice drifted away from the mention of sex, even if she was the one who bought the topic up.

Kyle was glad, because even if he had convinced himself that dating Cartman's ex-girlfriend was irrelevant now, it still didn't stop his mind wandering to Cartman when he was having sex. It was gross, and horrifying, but the harder he tried to blot out the image of his goading grin, the more the images multiplied and his mind would melt away to find an obnoxious Cartman centre. Kyle had no explanation other than his brain must have had a thing for self-sabotage, and maybe it was trying to send a message that this tangled, three-way co-dependency was just a tad messed up. He thought he could take comfort in the fact that Heidi was none the wiser, that she was blind to his futile efforts, but clearly he wasn't that good an actor.

"Even then, you seem distracted, like you're just trying to get it over with, and if you're not into me then-"

"Heidi, I never meant to make you feel like I wasn't into you." Kyle stepped forward, wanting to touch her cheek but thinking better of it. "I think you're beautiful, and, yeah, I do have a lot on my mind, but... I do _try-_"

"And that's just it, sometimes it feels like you're forcing yourself to be in the moment." She took a long breath through her nose, shaking her head. "We're in high school, Kyle, relationships are supposed to be fun and... God, I'm not asking you to be all over me, I'm not asking anything of you. We've both been trying to make this work, and that's admirable in a lot of ways. Commitment and compromise are all great, but I'm not ready for that yet. Are you?"

Kyle didn't know if he was ready, but he knew he was tired of trying to make this work.

"No..."

"I'm just not sure you're someone I wanna commit to," Heidi mumbled. Brutally honest, sure, but at least it was her speaking her mind. "I've been there, you know? I used to think that relationships were a hundred-a hundred, but what do you do if that's not enough?"

"Right..." Kyle nodded, because he didn't have an answer. "I get it... "

She smiled.

"I still care about you, and I really do want us to be friends."

"Yeah, of course."

Heidi beamed, and wrapped her arms around him. He gently folded his arms around her too.

"Of course..." he murmured into her shoulder, savouring the smell of her perfume, and her shampoo, and how soft her hair felt against his cheek. There was no point in pretending he wasn't going to miss this.

"Thanks for understanding..." Heidi smiled when she pulled away, still holding him at arm's length.

"Thanks for being honest."

"Keep trying to be in the moment though, okay?" she asked, with a squeeze.

Kyle smiled, rolled his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure that's an oxymoron."

"You know what I mean! Try journaling, or meditating, or whatever, something to clear your head and focus your thoughts. I think it would do you a lot of good."

"Okay, I'll try," Kyle replied, not promising anything.

He watched her study his face one last time.

"Bye, Kyle..."

"Bye, Heidi."

She slipped away from him, and unlike the first time, Kyle didn't watch her leave.

He was disappointed, but not crushed. Sobered, but not hurt. He felt strangely proud of their second break up. There was no twisted, triple-cross manipulation, no second hand bigotry that sounded wrong coming out of Heidi's mouth, there was no Cartman waiting outside.

Yet, it was still all about him.

* * *

Kyle had wanted to avoid addressing his break-up, or even talking about it with his friends - understandable, he thought, since his group of childhood best friends included Cartman. He only really wanted to discuss it with Stan, if anyone, and only because he seemed like the most natural person to gravitate to in times of crisis, even though their methods for problem-solving differed somewhat. Stan was comforting like a blanket was comforting, or your favourite meal. He made Kyle feel better, but rarely offered any solutions that Kyle believed would work. Nonetheless, his desire to keep this just between him, Heidi, and his super best friend was dashed when he remembered that he and Heidi were definitely Facebook official, she of course had her own friends too, and that she would change their relationship status hours after leaving Kyle's house... and he would inevitably have to do the same.

So everybody knew; Stan, Kenny, Butters, Wendy, Bebe, Red, Nichole, Nelly, whoever else Heidi was friends with, everybody else who Kyle and Heidi knew but who didn't care about their love life, and of course, Cartman knew too.

To cheer Kyle up, Stan suggested they all hang out that Saturday afternoon. He didn't think Kyle should be alone right now. Kyle had no idea why Stan was jumping to the conclusion that without Heidi in his life he was now a danger to himself. He was bummed, sure, but he wasn't depressed. Yeah, he hadn't slept great these past couple of nights, and his appetite had shrank, and his head was hurting a lot but that was because Heidi's plea for him to quit over-thinking and live in the moment more had sent his thought spiralling into overdrive - further evidence, he thought, that his brain really was prone to self-sabotage. Only one person seemed to occupy his thoughts, taunting him, and revelling in the fact that after all these years he was still getting his own back.

Kyle's jaw had instantly tightened upon seeing Cartman outside the mall with Kenny, his fists instinctively clenching before he remembered that Cartman's by-proxy involvement in his recent break-up wasn't grounds to punch him in the face. Kyle hated to admit it, but to everybody else, this break up was definitely not Cartman's fault. It only made his presence more agitating.

The mall was still a pretty dire place to hang out, and a lot of the staff still had the pale, pistachio pallor and raspy tones of subterranean people, but the Fulfilment centre had scaled back its operations significantly since the Tegridy revolt, reviving the good old-fashioned bricks and mortar retail experience. Besides, there wasn't much for four teenage boys to do in South Park on a Saturday afternoon than hang out in a food court, and wander the halogen lighted stores.

"So why'd she break up with you?" Cartman asked, slurping on his soda. "Besides the obvious..."

Kyle sighed.

"Being?"

"That you're a boring, self-righteous dickhead."

"Not that it's any of your business, but she just said we were growing apart," Kyle replied, not even looking at Cartman.

He noticed Kenny nodding.

"Fair enough..."

"It really sucks, dude..." Stan added, clapping his shoulder.

"That's just code for 'you're lame and you've never made me cum.'"

Kyle seethed, he had the perfect excuse to punch Cartman in the face but hated how simple he made it for Cartman to rile him up. It always seemed like he was the one losing his cool, his mind consumed by the bullshit Cartman spouted.

"Don't fucking talk about me and Heidi like you know anything that went on between us!"

He didn't even realise he had lunged towards him until Stan's arm was pressed to his chest, trying to keep him back. Kyle saw a flash of fear in Cartman's eyes, before it dimmed into his usual gloating contentment.

"Hey, look!" Stan exclaimed, pointing to a promotion happening outside a video games store. He was still trying to hold Kyle back. "They've got a Universum Experience over there! Let's go check it out, huh?"

Kenny smirked, arching an eyebrow.

"Smooth..."

Nonetheless, Kyle was dragged over there along with Cartman and Kenny.

"I don't know why you've got such a boner for this all of a sudden, I've had a Universum add-on for a month and you guys didn't give a shi-"

"Cartman, bro, I would just keep your mouth shut and count yourself lucky Kyle didn't just deck you outside Hot Topic," Kenny interrupted.

The Universum Experience was bustling with intrigued shoppers, and enthusiastic salespeople wearing the black and neon green outfits that matched the company's logo. The Universum was huge, a revolutionary piece of VR, and even if they were flying off the shelves, the company clearly didn't want the hype to die and so were ramping it up with 'Experiences' just like these. Those who were trying the device out were reclining in shiny, leather gaming chairs, mouths agape and eyes glazed over, with shrunken pupils and pale irises, while the Universum salespeople tried to make polite conversation with any concerned friends or family members.

One of the salespeople, a dark-haired guy with a neat, black beard approached them. His name tag read 'Josh.'

"Hey, guys!" he grinned, hands clasped together like he was mid-applause. "Interested in trying out the Universum?"

"Um, my friend is..." Stan offered, pushing Kyle towards him like Josh was a flirty waitress.

"Great! What's your name?"

Josh had held out his hand to shake.

"Kyle..."

"Nice to meet you, Kyle! My name is Josh..." he replied, as they shared a slow, uncomfortable handshake. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Kyle perched on one of the gamer chairs, and wasn't prepared for Josh to crouch down next to him. He wasn't a little kid, for Christ's sake...

"What do you know about the Universum?"

"It's a VR add-on-"

"It's a VR add-on with a device that you put on your temple, and it basically knocks you out and transfers your consciousness into the character in the game... kinda like Avatar without the space tree-hugging," Cartman butted in.

"That's right!" Josh continued, undeterred. "It's a totally immersive gaming experience. The Universum can emulate all physical sensation. At Universum Games, we believe it's not enough to see, smell, and hear the world that developers have created. We want you to feel _everything_, every hit, every power-up, every breath your character takes. And the best part is that when you exit the game, there are no physical repercussions."

"What?" Kyle asked, brow creased. "A device that renders you comatose has no side-affects?"

Cartman sighed.

"I'd give up if I were you, dude," he said to Josh. "You're trying to sell this to Sergeant Buzzkill."

Kyle glared at him, and Cartman met his glowering stare with lidded, bored eyes, like he knew exactly what was going to happen. Kyle decided then, that he wasn't going to be so predictable anymore. He looked at Josh.

"I wanna try it..."

"Great!" Josh grinned, reaching for the box that contained the tiny device. There were about four placed on every side table. "Now before we start, do you have any heart conditions, or epilepsy?"

"No..."

Kyle shook his head, trying not to gulp when Josh pulled the tiny, round piece of silver metal out of the box. How could something so small be so scary? It was like a needle at the doctor's office, only a hundred times more powerful.

Kenny leaned in close to Cartman.

"Dude, you've had two heart attacks, how have you survived this thing?"

Cartman rolled his eyes.

"They have to ask that as a legality..."

"Okay, so while we are becoming compatible with popular franchises, the game I'm gonna demonstrate to you, Kyle, is one our company has designed for use with the Universum," Josh explained, as he fitted the device to Kyle's temple. It was the smallest pressure, but Kyle could feel his breaths quicken with nervous anticipation. "It's called 'NYC Vice.' We've designed it to be a very exploratory game with an extensive map, but with a cool PVP element to it too. The scene you're about to experience is purely a demo, but we think it really shows off what the Universum can do. Are you ready?"

Kyle nodded, and before he could make any sort of objection his head flopped backwards. His neck was suddenly elastic and his thoughts were being swept away by the coding and pixels swimming in his mind, waves of data crashing against his brain and washing up onto his frontal lobe. He wasn't in South Park anymore, he wasn't in the mall with Stan, and Kenny, and Cartman, and Josh. He was on the Brooklyn Bridge, the steering wheel of a Ferrari burning into his palms. His arms were sinewy with muscle and painted with tattoos, various gang symbols intertwining with each other. He was flying down the road, navigating the car like a bird navigating its wings, swerving and soaring, weaving in and out of traffic.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of glass from the passenger seat, and a bullet flew right past his eyes and straight through his window. His ears were ringing from the sound of the bullet, feeling waterlogged. There was glass everywhere; the passenger seat, twinkling in his lap, and some shards were pinching his skin, stinging with blood. He could feel tiny rivulets running down his cheeks. He turned his head and saw the culprit, a smartly dressed gentleman with a tacky gold chain and even tackier aviator sunglasses. He was frowning at Kyle, ordering his lackey driver to pick up the pace.

They soon disappeared from sight, but Kyle knew he had to follow them. The engine roared, and he could smell the hot, thick scent of the tyres burning and peeling away on the tarmac as he picked up his pace. The speedometer was quivering, and as Kyle tried to dodge a car his own spun out of control, glass crunching, and tyres scraping, and palms searing, and the force of which the car was spinning around was crushing his skull. Seething, and mouth tasting of blood, he attempted to turn the car around. He fed the steering wheel clumsily through his hands, his teeth gritted as he saw his target in the distance, still speeding away in a mysterious cloud of smoke. He was soon off, soon soaring again, the traffic thankfully thinning away. They were soon side by side, and Kyle found himself reaching for the gun he never knew he had in his holster, leaning closer to the shattered window and taking aim at one of the relentless tyres. He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet punctured the wheel. There was that hot, thick smell again, infused with a distinct metallic odour. Black bits of rubber flew away, and his rival lost control of the car, swerving into a barrier with a crash that rivalled the explosive sounds of the bullets leaving their chambers. Kyle continued to speed away, and heard the rumble of a different kind of explosion in the distance. When he looked in his wing mirror, he saw blossoming, orange flames.

Suddenly, the tide of reality was pulling him back again. The bridge was crumbling beneath his car, the code and pixels were sliding away from his frontal lobe, their pervasive, tentacular pull receding. He lurched forward, and suddenly he was back in South Park again, back in that gaming chair, with Josh, and Stan, and Kenny, and Cartman.

"Huh?" he exhaled, his chest was heaving and his heart was pounding. "What just..."

"It's okay, dude..." Stan said softly, his hand at his shoulder.

Kyle nodded, still collecting his breaths. As his confusion waned, he felt a little embarrassed that Kenny, Cartman, and some random salesperson had been witness to his freaked-out return to reality.

"How did you like it?" Josh asked.

"Yeah, it was..." Kyle smiled. "Incredible..."

"Well, I'm glad! We do have a limited offer at the moment. The Universum can be yours for just a hundred bucks, Kyle, and it comes with a free copy of 'NYC Vice'."

Kyle didn't need further convincing. He knew this was just what he needed to quiet his brain down, recalibrate and redirect his thoughts. He nodded.

"Yeah, sounds good..."

"Awesome! Sit tight and I'll just grab one for you!"

"Thanks..." Kyle replied, watching Josh walk away in a daze.

"Dude, you're seriously going to buy one now?" Stan whispered, eyes wide.

"Yeah?"

Stan frowned.

"I thought you were saving up for a car..."

"Look, Heidi said I need to find something to help me focus my mind, be in the moment, and I think something like this might just help me! Isn't prioritising my mental health something I should be doing?"

Stan rolled his eyes, and huffed.

"Yeah, of course it is-"

"Then I'm making a smart investment, aren't I?" Kyle replied with a smile, already reaching for his wallet.

* * *

It was midnight, Kyle was lying in bed playing video games but the Universum was still in its box. He wanted to play it again when he got home from the mall, but the game took forever to download. It was easy to say he had forgotten all about it by the time it was finished, and harder to admit he was scared to play again. Being in the game, putting yourself in dangerous, virtual situations and feeling everything whilst knowing it meant nothing was a strange, potent, and overwhelming rush that practically flooded his brain with dopamine. Using the Universum was like letting your brain be submerged, submitting each and every one of your neurons to the will of this tiny machine, this artificial world, and then letting it drain out of you, a satisfying sigh, a detox. And like a detox, Kyle hoped it would flush away all the toxins, the unnecessary, unproductive thoughts that his brain was content to recycle forever. He hoped it would leave him with some new, peaceful perspective. Dwelling on the past, and obsessing over people was not healthy, living in the moment was. It seemed great, so why was he so reluctant?

He kept glancing at the Universum while his soccer-playing avatar scored another goal. He tried to convince himself this was enough, what he was playing now felt just as mindless and he didn't have to pay a hundred bucks for the privilege. But the fact was, he did pay money for this thing, and he did it because he knew it worked. He vowed he would use it tomorrow, and released a sigh into his quiet room, irritated by his anxiety.

Suddenly, a little message flashed in the corner of his screen.

_CARTMANBRAH is online._

Kyle ignored it, before another one popped up.

_CARTMANBRAH invites you to play 'NYC Vice.'_

Kyle shifted on his bed, his shoulders pulled back, once relaxed muscles now stiffening. A sensible voice in his head told him to just ignore it, but his instinct was to rise to Cartman's challenge. Because that's what most of their interactions felt like; a challenge, a dare, gauntlet after gauntlet thrown down. Kyle sighed again, a long, deep breath through his nose as he fitted the Universum to his temple and accepted Cartman's invitation.

The screen loaded for a few seconds, before it brought Kyle to a blurry, dingy alley. A PVP setting, with a character selection menu over the top of it, asking him to choose his fighter. Kyle flicked through the fighters on offer, which included a smartly-dressed guy who may have been a pimp, a heavy-set bouncer looking dude dressed all in black, a corrupt police officer, and one, blond female fighter whose name was Amber. Kyle chose a guy named Paul. His pecs were bulging out of the white vest he was wearing, his neck bedecked with gold chains and he wore stacks of matching rings on his fingers. He had a constantly furrowed brow, and a red beard just a shade or two lighter than his own hair.

Character chosen, he tapped the device on the side of his head just like Josh told him to do. That elasticity returned to him again, the controller limp in his grasp and it felt as though it disappeared from his hands altogether. The whole room disappeared, and he was now stood in that alley. No longer blurred, but dripping with the water of leaking pipes and faulty drains. There was a faint smell of garbage in the air, and although the alley was dim the walls seemed to glow with neon, nocturnal colours, reflecting the city humming in the background. Kyle looked at his hands, large and bejewelled. He patted his chest, registering his hulking form and wondered if this was how Bruce Banner felt when he transformed into the Hulk. He was a motherfucking superhero! At least he felt just as powerful as one.

"'Sup, dude?" A feminine voice asked.

Kyle looked up, and saw a tall woman standing a few feet away from him, wearing shiny, black thigh-high boots, and a dark denim mini skirt. One manicured hand was placed on her generous hip, and she was smirking, arching an eyebrow at him. She was formidable, but not really, when Kyle knew the person behind the avatar. He laughed.

"_That's_ the character you picked?"

"Damn, so sexist, Kyle! Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't destroy you!"

Kyle scoffed.

"I'd like to see you-"

Cartman interrupted him with a roundhouse kick to the chest. It sent him flying into garbage bags, and he must have blacked out because the alley seemed to be whirring, blurry again in his vision. He was certainly winded, and he staggered as he tried to get up, still disorientated. Cartman was uncaring, still standing in a squared-off stance with his fists raised.

"That's not fair!" he managed to get out. "I don't even know how this-"

Cartman interrupted him again with left and right hooks to his face. Kyle stumbled, head spinning faster, he put a hand to his nose that was definitely knocked out of place. The blood running out of his nostrils only proved that.

"What the fu-"

"Don't be a pussy!" Cartman laughed. "Everything resets."

With that, Kyle's nose made a satisfying cracking sound, popping right back into place and the blood disappeared, not even caked into his beard.

"See?"

"Holy shit..." Kyle whispered, stroking his nose in disbelief.

"So come on, _Paul_, give me your best shot-"

Kyle dished out an uppercut of his own. It sent Cartman stumbling backwards, seething and slightly dishevelled only for a minute before he retaliated with a kick to Kyle's chin. Kyle blocked him, grabbing his ankle and pushing his leg back. Kyle gritted his teeth as he fought against the inertia, seething and sweating. He saw his aggressive concentration mirrored on Cartman's face; the glowering stare, the curled, snarling lip, and reddened face. He pushed Cartman's knee so far back it was almost touching his face, his skirt riding up so all of his thigh was exposed. The sight made Kyle's breath catch in his throat a little, an unusual spark rubbing up against the pleasure he always took in competition. He loved those basketball games where the team they were playing were just as good. It was always more fun if the scales were equally tipped, if the chances of losing are stark. But he never felt this hot, catching sensation in his gut. He swore he saw something similar flash in Cartman's eyes before he threw him to the floor.

He pinned him to the ground before he could get back up, holding his wrists down and straddling him. The clock was running out, and Cartman didn't make any attempts to beat him. They stared at each other, panting, and mouths turning upwards into challenging, knowing smiles though Kyle had no idea what the hell was going to happen next. But the chest heaving below him, the sweet, damp breaths pouring out of Cartman's mouth, and the body between his thighs made his gut clench with that white-hot feeling. He was glad when round two began, forcing them off each other and back to their starting positions.

Kyle cleared his throat, copied Cartman's squared-off stance, and let the short distance between them dispel any awkwardness.

"I'm gonna fuck you up, dude..."

Kyle chuckled. One, because he was buzzing with competitiveness and two because it was inexplicably funny to him to hear the admittedly seductive voice of this hot, blond chick talk like Cartman.

"Oh, like you did in the last round?" he teased.

"I was going easy on you..."

Kyle wasn't going to offer the same supposed courtesy to Cartman. He dealt a few quickfire hooks to his face, his fists and Cartman's face blurring. Cartman blocked him, crossing his palms and holding them in front of his face. It was a move that threw Kyle backwards, bewildered and disorientated once again. But when another roundhouse kick was coming his way, Kyle was able to block it. He didn't try to push Cartman back again, not wishing to recreate that strange, charged moment. Instead, he simply grabbed Cartman's leg and shoved it away from him, utilising the swiftness afforded to a video game character to twist Cartman's body around and place him in a chokehold.

His nails were as sharp as fucking talons as they clawed into his arms, and Kyle was spluttering as he tried to get bits of blond hair out of his mouth. It was only when Cartman began to gasp and gag did he soften his grip, slowly releasing the pressure on his windpipe. He knew there were no physical repercussions, but it sure did feel like it sometimes. Kyle may have wanted to win this fight, and this was a hugely satisfying way of expressing his anger, but he didn't want to kill Cartman. He may have felt like the bane of Kyle's life sometimes, but that didn't mean he wanted any real harm-

Kyle was flipped over onto his back, landing on the ground with a loud huff, and his back definitely felt like it was shattered. He couldn't move, and a grin was stretched right across Cartman's face when he straddled him, pinning his helpless wrists to the ground. But the round was far from over, and the painful spasms in Kyle's back soon subsided. He smiled, shoving Cartman onto his side and rolling on top of him. His eyes flaring with incredulity, his creased brow, and pouting lip was enough to make Kyle cackle.

"That's bullshit, man!" he cried. "I pinned you!"

"The round isn't over yet-"

Kyle interrupted himself with a huff when Cartman pinned him to the ground. He snarled at his pleased, smirking face, determined to dash it. So he did, rolling over and pinning him again. The timer soon ran out, the round coming to a close and Kyle had no idea who won, and after all that he found himself not caring too much. They continued to roll around, huffing, and growling, and panting on the grimy floor and Kyle didn't care too much about that either.

They were actually laughing, their bodies thrumming with giddy chuckles when they relented, breathless, with Cartman's thighs either side of Kyle's hips. His face was full of blond hair and he didn't splutter to get it away from lips, or brush it out of his eyes. Cartman's face was buried in his neck, hot breath against his skin. He felt his lips widen into a smile. Kyle blinked, and because this was so insane and it had all been ridiculously gratifying, he let himself smile too. They gathered their breaths and the beat passed with it. Cartman pulled back, staring at Kyle with wide, contemplative eyes and parted lips that had him catching his breath all over again. His skirt was riding up, and Kyle balked when he realised his hands were high on Cartman's now bare thighs. Before he could say anything - or even think of anything to say - Cartman was leaning down, and pressing his lips to his. It was a hot, sloppy kiss, their exhausted mouths smushing together and Kyle's eyes drifted shut, giving into the soft, plush feeling of the lips hugging his own.

He felt Cartman's lips part against his with a shuddering, sultry breath and it felt just as lovely as his eyelashes, nose, mouth against his neck, and so he let Cartman's tongue swipe against his lips, inviting him in. Tongues met, and Kyle melted. His shoulders drooped, and that hot, wrenching feeling in his stomach melted with it, spreading warmth all over him. He propped himself up, wanting more, tilting his head and shivering at the tiny, glistening gasp that left Cartman's mouth when he did so. He reached up, brushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear. He traced Cartman's jawline with his fingers and brushed his thumb against his cheek.

It was then that the realisation of who he was actually kissing shook loose, dropping into the pit of his stomach, and he froze instead of melted.

"No..." he murmured, eyes slowly opening. He saw Cartman's dark, lidded eyes staring back at him and shoved him away.

"No!" he yelled, scrambling backward while Cartman sat, trembling. "No, what the fuck?!"

Cartman didn't reply, eyes wandering the floor before he looked at Kyle, eyes now blown wide with panic.

"Exit game!" he cried, vanishing.

_CARTMANBRAH has left the game._

Kyle stared at the message, panting, and clueless, and he had no idea what the fuck just happened, or what to do now. But he knew what he felt, and he knew that he was livid.

"Cartman!" He yelled. "Cartman, what the hell did you..." he stopped, gathering his breaths when he realised it was useless. "Exit game!"

He was brought back to reality, chest heaving, and he was gasping on his bed like he had been pulled from rocky waters. He growled, ripping the Universum from his temple and throwing it on his nightstand. He flopped back onto the sheets, bringing his hands to his burning face. He felt like he should scream, or throw up. The latter seemed the most obvious, as he was riding out wave after wave of revulsion. But when his hands slid away from his face, he looked down to find a boner in his sweats.


	2. Chapter 2

Kyle had a terrible weekend.

In the unnerving aftermath of his and Cartman's... whatever the hell it was... Kyle put the Universum back in its box, shoved it in a drawer, and ignored the boner in his pants. If only shutting off the memory of that fucked-up kiss was as simple. Kyle didn't sleep that night, and in his sleep-deprived delirium the memory only grew more feverish, making him sweat, and gag, and want to cry. How had he managed to ruin this so spectacularly? What was it about Cartman - even virtually, masked by an avatar - that drew out this reckless, irrational side to him?

On Monday, Kyle was determined to be normal, to pretend that this had never happened. But his mouth clamped shut when he saw Cartman, and even looking at him seemed as unflinching a decision as staring directly into the sun. Cartman, however, ignored him completely, which was even more irritating than Cartman actually talking to him. Kyle was bored without the bickering, and watching Cartman try to emulate said bickering with their friends felt more pitiful than spiteful. Kyle cringed when the thought murmured in his mind, but he knew that Butters and his sunny disposition, and Stan and Kenny with their zero tolerance for Cartman's crap, had nothing on him. Cartman knew too, when they caught each other's glances at the same time, and reflected each other's disdain and dissatisfaction.

So Kyle was both relieved and terrified when Cartman text him during his free period, telling him to meet him under the bleachers. When Kyle thought of him and Cartman actually talking again today, he imagined a taunting comment being made in the cafeteria, or a heated debate being sparked in class. He imagined people being around them. The fact that they were going to finally talk, on their own in a private place meant that Cartman possibly wanted to discuss what happened during the game. Kyle wasn't ready for that. Surely he should've been the one to address this first, right? He was annoyed that Cartman had beaten him to it, but there was no way he was going to back down.

He kept that in mind as he marched over to the bleachers, where Cartman was waiting for him. Cartman had noticed him already, and it was the longest they had maintained eye contact all day.

"What do you want?" Kyle asked, stepping into the shadows.

Cartman smiled. The mean, delighted smile he always sported when Kyle was pissed off.

"You're very chipper today..."

"Seriously, Cartman, I can't deal with your shit right now," Kyle replied, voice taut and low. It was a half-truth. "Just tell me what you want."

Cartman scowled, his nostrils flared.

"This is fucking hard for me too, Kyle!" he snapped. "You're not the only one who's been thinking about it, alright?"

Kyle flinched, gulped. His face instantly flared.

"I... I-I-I haven't been thinking about it."

Cartman scoffed.

"Come on! I know you. Obviously you've been thinking about it..."

"Well, what good does fucking thinking do? Or talking about it! It doesn't change the fact it happened! You asked me to come out here... for what?"

"I don't know!" Cartman cried, throwing his hands up. His voice was scratchy. "So maybe you could yell at me, and get angry at me, and be _Kyle_! You've been all weird, and quiet-"

"So you brought me out here just to piss me off? To get a reaction out of me?" As his voice rose, sharp, and clear, and strong, Kyle felt like something was returning to him. There was a warmth in his core again, filling up his chest and it was familiar rather than frightening. "Jesus Christ, Cartman, are you really that fucking desperate for attention? You know what..." he stopped, shaking his head when he realised he was giving Cartman exactly what he wanted. "I'm not even gonna..."

Kyle huffed, walking away without another word. He wasn't ready yet.

"Hey!"

He didn't look back.

"Hey! What the hell is your problem?" Cartman called again. "Kyle!"

He took a deep, calming breath through his nose, teeth gritted as he fought the urge to turn around.

"Fine! Walk away, you little pussy! Got the balls to kiss me, but you can't-"

Cartman paused mid-sentence when Kyle turned around to glare at him. Now _that _he couldn't let slide. His whole body prickled with fear, and it must have been some angry adrenaline that sent him stomping back over to Cartman. He was undeterred by Kyle's rage, still grinning and pleased with himself.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, asshole? _You_ kissed _me_!"

Cartman blinked, and his eyebrows twitched. Kyle swore he saw the confidence dim on his face a little. Still, he shrugged as if he could care less about Kyle's accusation even though it was undoubtedly true.

"Yeah?"

Kyle huffed, incredulous. His eyes grew wider.

"_Why?_"

Cartman's smile was wobbling, and he was avoiding looking at Kyle directly.

"Because I wanted to," he replied, and Kyle knew Cartman had wanted it to sound cool and evasive, but it just sounded really fucking dumb. The results were the same however, extremely infuriating.

Kyle sighed, long and heavy.

"God, how hasn't anybody killed you yet?" he asked, rubbing an exasperated hand over his face.

"What more do you want from me? It was that fucking simple, and I can't explain it any other way. It just happened-"

"No, it didn't just happen, Cartman," Kyle cut in. There was no way he would feel sorry for him. "Every decision you make, no matter how selfish, or insane, or totally fucking _stupid_, is one you come to yourself. And no matter how ridiculous the reasoning, that's not an excuse for having no control over your actions-"

"Why did you kiss me back?"

"Huh?"

Kyle's jaw quivered. It wasn't as though he was unfamiliar with Cartman interrupting him, but this jarring question was the one Kyle had been dreading answering.

"Sorry, it's just your little lecture got me thinking," Cartman replied, arrogant as ever. "Why did you kiss me back?"

Kyle's heart was racing, just like it had all Saturday night, when he was lying awake asking himself the same question over and over.

"I don't know! Because I..."

_Wanted to. I actually wanted to kiss you back._

Kyle didn't say that out loud. He couldn't bring himself to. Cartman was smirking at him, knowing and calculating, as if the answer was written across his face.

"Fuck you. This isn't funny."

"It is a _little_ funny."

"No, it's not!" Kyle cried.

Cartman dropped the smirk, stepping closer.

"You wanted to kiss me too, didn't you?" he asked, in a way that made Kyle feel he wasn't going to rip on his answer.

"Well, not... you'd already... Kyle sighed, fighting with the truth. "Just in that one instance..." He looked to the ground. "Yeah, I did."

In the silence, Kyle _wished_ Cartman would rip on him for just admitting what he did. At least that would be normal, at least that would be something Kyle could work with. This was crushing, just echoing back all of Kyle's paranoid thoughts, and confusing feelings, and not offering any solution. There was only one thing that seemed able to break this impasse, no matter how crazy or terrifying it was.

"We should kiss now..."

"Huh?"

Kyle was still looking at the ground when he made his suggestion. He looked up.

"We should kiss now. See if we feel anything, if it's..." he rolled his eyes, his leg jittering. "If it feels like it did in the game."

Cartman didn't say anything, still processing Kyle's proposal. He tried to smile.

"Dude, Kyle, I know it's hard going through a break-up and all, but I should _not_ be your rebound-"

"Just fucking kiss me!" Kyle snapped.

Cartman opened his mouth to retort, but instead sighed.

"Fine..."

Kyle's heart was sprinting now, not expecting Cartman's acquiescence and now he was totally unprepared that _this was happening_. He didn't move, couldn't move. Cartman instead stepped closer, and Kyle fidgeted at this new proximity. There was a little dent in Cartman's brow, and Kyle had no idea what the hell was taking so long for their lips to meet. But he realised that Cartman's hands were hovering in the air, and his eyes kept flicking back and forth between Kyle's torso and his face. It made him wonder how much kissing experience Cartman actually had. He had only ever dated Heidi, after all.

"Where should I put my-"

"I don't care," Kyle grumbled. His arms were folded across his chest. He had no intention of touching him.

Finally, Cartman settled on placing his hands on Kyle's shoulders. They were firm and stiff, and his touch made Kyle jolt. At least they were warm... but still Kyle was shivering. When Cartman pressed his lips to his, they felt just as stiff and firm as his hands. Kyle tensed, face scrunching up and as the seconds fell away the grip Cartman had on his shoulders tightened. Their lips didn't part, not wanting their tongues in each other's mouths. Kyle could feel his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, and he cringed away.

Cartman released him, and they didn't look at each other for a while. Kyle was still clutching himself, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed Cartman wiping his mouth. Not out of disgust, because even if the kiss wasn't exactly good, it wasn't awful either. It was just... wrong, and Kyle didn't blame him for wanting to erase the feeling of it.

"Well?" Cartman asked.

Kyle shook his head.

"Nothing..."

"Me neither," Cartman replied, deflated.

Honestly, so was Kyle. He went into this experiment to prove that the kiss in the game was just a fluke, an isolated incident. It was a relief, he supposed, to discover that was true. But he had to kiss Cartman in real life to find that out, so maybe it wasn't such a triumphant victory.

"So it's just a game thing..."

He felt like it should be spoken between them. If anything, he hoped it would make them both feel better.

"Yeah..." Cartman nodded. He was still having trouble looking at Kyle. "Just a game thing..."

* * *

Later that evening, Kyle felt a more resounding, even more depressing sense of déjà vu as he found himself sprawled out on his bed, playing video games again. Whatever free evenings he had during the week were usually spent with Heidi, and without her he had more time to himself - i.e. more time alone with his thoughts. The Universum remained locked away, not coming out of its box until he could learn to use it responsibly.

Following their underwhelming kiss, he and Cartman returned to their usual routine. Kyle was thankful for that, even if they annoyed the hell out of each other, and wished each other away sometimes, he had to recognise that Cartman played some strange, bothersome role in his life that made him - as Cartman so eloquently put it - _Kyle_. He was glad to return to that person again. Kyle was preoccupied with change - in himself, in his little town, in the world around him, but the older he got the more he appreciated a certain status quo. Ironically, the kiss he never thought would happen seemed to rebalance all of that, and even if a part of him was still deflated, still lost, and miserable, at least he had salvaged that.

_CARTMANBRAH is online._

His hands stiffened when he saw the message appear on the screen. He knew what was coming.

_CARTMANBRAH invites you to play 'NYC Vice'._

Still, seeing it made his stomach leap into his throat. His palms were sweaty all of a sudden, and he was pissed off at Cartman for not being able to leave anything alone, for pushing, for not accepting the truce sealed with a kiss. He had to provoke Kyle, and aggravate him, and... tempt him. Kyle tried to swallow but there was a boulder in his throat. But he could still weigh up the options in his mind. If he declined, everything carried on as normal. There would be no risks to take, no more mortifying, charged encounters, and no more sleepless nights. If he accepted, there was a very real chance that the game, and its exhilarating possibilities would get the better of them. There was a very real chance their panting, enlivened bodies would be close again. There was a very real chance they would touch, and kiss, and...

Kyle blinked, skin prickling and heart pounding. His hands were shaking as he accepted Cartman's invitation, and it was so easy not to think as he was brought to the PVP screen once again, to choose Paul, to reach over into his drawer and place the Universum on his temple.

He wasn't in the alley this time. It was daytime, and he was in a large, airy warehouse surrounded by jagged-edged sports cars. Cartman was in front of him, all blond hair, and wicked smile, and hourglass curves, and suggestive outfit, and it was alarming how turned on Kyle was just by the sight of 'Amber.'

"Seriously?" Kyle asked, chuckling, as if it could dampen his arousal. "You chose her again?"

"Yeah? She's badass!" Cartman lowered his chin, adopting his usual, squared-off stance with fists raised. He smiled. "You ready?"

Kyle nodded before he could stop it, with a grin of his own. He mirrored Cartman's stance, and they hovered towards each other like boxers in the ring. As they closed the gap between them, the wider their smiles grew. Their breaths seemed to catch, lush and sweet like they could flick their tongues out and taste the thick tension in the air. Kyle's body was drawn tight, like a cat with hackles raised, ready to flinch, or block, or attack in response to whatever move Cartman threw at him. But when they were right in front of each other, Cartman unclenched his fists and with a short, frustrated huff, grabbed Kyle's face and smashed their lips together.

Cartman wasted no time shoving his tongue in Kyle's mouth, drawing Kyle closer until his hair was in his face and their chests were heaving together, and he was blurry in Kyle's eyes. Kyle did tense initially, eyes widening and shoulders drawing back before he flexed into the kiss, eyes drifting shut and body sighing. He tilted his head and found Cartman's waist to pull him closer. Their tongues met, no longer curious or reluctant, but eager, and hot, and not giving a fuck whose mouth they were trying to invade.

Their lips soon separated with a wet, loud smack. Cartman's mouth was flush from the pressure, from Kyle's coarse beard rubbing against his skin, magenta from his smeared lipstick. Kyle imagined his lips stinging and tingling like his own. He kissed Cartman's neck with little pecks, and earnest, sloppy sucks, and tiny nips, and he felt the tremors of gasps and whimpers against his mouth. Cartman was clinging onto his shoulders, digging his manicured nails in, and Kyle seethed when those nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh - but then again, he had just grabbed Cartman's ass and squeezed. They were both panting, chests rising and falling with heaving breaths.

"Come on..." Cartman murmured, pulling Kyle over to a bright, yellow Lamborghini.

He perched himself on the hood, a thin strap to his shimmery vest sliding down his shoulder, panting, and slack-jawed and looking up at Kyle with expectant eyes. He reached out, pulling at the hem of Kyle's own wife-beater vest. He lifted his arms so Cartman could pull it over his head, and they both seemed to be staring in wonder at the tattooed, ripped body beneath the material. A part of Kyle wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it was that he now owned this body, or rather, had it on loan until he returned to reality. But he was shoving thoughts of reality out of his mind right now. There were more pressing matters to attend to, like taking Cartman's shirt off. He raised his arms compliantly, and they both reached up to brush his hair out of his face. Kyle lowered his head to kiss him again, cradling his jaw. Cartman tilted his head and keened to Kyle's lips. His hand found his shoulder once more, stroking and then squeezing a bicep.

Kyle lowered Cartman on to the hood, and the car made a loud, groaning noise of displeasure when Kyle climbed on top of him, fusing their lips together with hard, desperate kisses. Smaller, muffled squeaks could be heard beneath them as they writhed. Kyle was grinding his hips and picking up his tempo. Cartman's skirt had hitched right up, and the growing bulge in Kyle's pants was rubbing against Cartman's sweat-slicked thighs, the centre of which seemed to be getting hotter and slipperier by the second. When Kyle noticed that, it was alarming at first. But common sense and inhibition were melting away and all that was left was a frustrating desire to _fucking do something_. But it was pretty difficult when Cartman's hands at his back were sending delightful shivers to trickle down his spine, and he was doing a great fucking job of sucking his tongue. They parted with a wet, undignified pop and a little grumble at the back of Kyle's throat. Cartman's face was flushed pink, too breathless to enquire why they had stopped. The only noise he could make was a whimper followed by a long, gentle sigh when Kyle kissed his neck again, his beard rubbing against Cartman's burning cheek when his mouth wandered further north to a earlobe he nipped and took between his lips.

He moved down, marking Cartman's throat, collarbone, cleavage, sternum with little kisses. He used to do that to Heidi, and she used to giggle. Cartman didn't giggle, he just continued to pant. He didn't writhe either, his body was still except for the rise and fall of his chest and it was almost as if Kyle could chart the anticipation/anxiety between his lips. Because even if everything inside him was telling him to roll with this, this was still daunting, and completely unprecedented.

Everything felt a lot more humid when he was in between Cartman's legs, and he parted them instinctively. Kyle hoped that was a sign he was starting to relax. There was already a wet patch on the pink thong he was wearing. Kyle pulled the underwear off Cartman's hips, though had to wrestle them over his stupid boots so they wouldn't obstruct what he was about to do next - although he hadn't quite decided what that was. At least the clumsy removal broke the tension with quiet chuckles, and humming laughter. It faded away soon enough, when Kyle's nerves were starting to overrun his impulse.

"So... um..." he was still trying to catch his breath. "What do you wanna do?"

He hoped not to talk much throughout this whole encounter, but told himself it had to be done.

"Huh?"

Kyle clenched his jaw, his face burned as he tried to muster up the balls to repeat himself.

"What do you want me to do to you?" he asked, even quieter.

Cartman blinked, as if he were pricked by reality for a second. But his reluctance soon drained away. He rolled his eyes, his head flopping back to rest on the windshield. His hair was fanned out behind him.

"I don't care..." he replied, in an impatient exhale.

Kyle rolled his eyes too. It was a non-answer, but one that made him feel marginally better. He placed his head between Cartman's legs again, and thought to when he was first in this position with Heidi. His knowledge of girls and their anatomy before he actually _had_ a girlfriend was limited to porn and Kenny's sexual wisdom (not forgetting Chef's inappropriate ballads), but he knew that there was a place you should always pay attention to-

"_Aah-aaah!" _Cartman cried, his body tensing when Kyle pressed and rubbed his tongue against his clit.

Kyle couldn't help but smile as his tongue took alternate swipes over Cartman's labia. The cry, and resounding high, quick gasps were at an almost surprised octave, like Cartman had never known he could feel like this.

"Did that feel good?" Kyle asked, before tonguing at Cartman's clit again.

It made Cartman fidget, a longer moan leaving his mouth followed by more staccato pants, they were more subdued but sounded just as sweet. Kyle looked up, and managed to catch a glimpse of Cartman's face. His eyes were squeezed shut, face contorted with pleasure and his mouth agape.

_"Yeah, just... just keep going..."_ he panted. _"Please..."_

Kyle obeyed, starting with little kisses, and teasing flicks of his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and his slick, balmy opening. Cartman would groan and buck, shuddering beneath Kyle's mouth before he would retreat. He was unused to teasing. When he was with Heidi, all he ever wanted was to make her feel good, make her cum to compensate for his lack of presence that apparently no earnest attempt at orgasms could cover up. He wanted to make Cartman feel good too, because he revelled in it so well that Kyle's cock was straining against his jeans at his moans, whimpers, whines, his whispered expletives, and the taste that was smeared all over his mouth. But he wanted to make Cartman chase it, to beg, and pant for it, because although this was a very different game they were playing Kyle was still competitive... and if Cartman came too soon, if the wonderful crescendo arrived prematurely, then all this gorgeous, sumptuous build-up would be over, without Kyle having savoured it to its full potential.

Still, Kyle wasn't totally cruel. The rhythm changed, hastened, and Kyle paid more attention to Cartman's clit whilst fingering him at a steady, galloping pace. Cartman's breaths were strained with groans and whimpers, his whole body tightening around Kyle's fingers. Kyle knew he was close.

"_Aaah! Aaah, f-f-fuck! Shit!" _Cartman cried, his body arched but he hadn't cum yet. He sighed, but his body was still jerking and writhing with pent-up release. _"Oh! Oh God... fuck me..."_

Kyle slowed down, coming to a complete stop when he looked up at Cartman. He had whispered his request, and didn't know if he had misheard. Cartman blinked his eyes open, dark, hazy, but unflinching.

"Uh... are you sure?" Kyle asked.

Cartman nodded, with no mirth. He was serious and impatient, and so was Kyle. He wasted no time in unzipping his pants and pulling down his underwear. There was an awkward cacophony of metal on metal, the buckle of his belt hitting the hood of the car, and tiny huffs as Kyle got into position. He was face-to-face with Cartman again, and he noticed that he was preoccupied with staring at his cock. Cartman's expression was hard to read, and it concerned Kyle a little. He hoisted Cartman's legs up a bit more, and spread them wider to a position he hoped would be more comfortable.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

Cartman flicked his gaze up to look at Kyle now. He rolled his eyes again, as if he didn't understand what Kyle's problem was.

"Yes! I, I think so..." he replied, grabbing a handful of Kyle's gelled hair and tugging. "Just fuck me already!"

Kyle nodded, and chose not to look at Cartman as he pushed his cock inside him. He instead peppered his neck with kisses, and felt Cartman's body sigh beneath him as he did so. Those talon-like nails clawed and pinched his skin the deeper he went, and Cartman was gasping and moaning in that startled octave again.

"It's okay..." Kyle murmured with a clumsy, open-mouthed kiss. "It's okay..."

Cartman nodded, and Kyle felt another rise and fall of his chest beneath his own. His head lolled back a little more, and Kyle began with slow, gentle thrusts. His breath was hot against Cartman's neck as he panted, and Cartman whimpered with every thrust. But his groans were starting to sound like discontentment, and he felt fingers grasping his hair, and nails digging into his scalp once more. With a huff, Cartman brought their lips together, noses smushing and faces squished together in a hard, desperate kiss that made Kyle's mouth feel hot and numb. He shifted slightly, not needing Cartman's encouragement to start fucking him harder and faster.

Kyle dug his fingers into Cartman's quivering thighs, but they were no match for the nails piercing his skin hard enough to draw blood. Their trembling, fidgety bodies moved in time with each other, lips parted and sharing sultry, tumbling breaths. Kyle was close now too, mouth slipping away from Cartman's lips to moan, and pant, and whisper nonsense against his jaw, nose pressed against his cheek. One of his hands had moved from Cartman's thigh to the windshield. It skidded, making a squeaking, smudging sound as it did so and trapping some of Cartman's hair beneath his palm. Cartman didn't care, moaning and sobbing.

He came with a long, loud cry, sounding more surprised than ever. Kyle moaned at the noise, the wet, shuddering convulsions, smiling against hot, sweaty skin. He soon followed Cartman with an expletive-ridden shout that stole his breath. Cartman's body seized, seemed to melt to a puddle beneath Kyle as he rode out his orgasm with lazy thrusts. Kyle tried to open his eyes, but his lids were constantly drooping, and in his ecstasy it was hard to get a grasp on even a perfect, vivid virtual world.

Cartman's fingers in his hair attempted to bring him back to virtual Earth, crunching with product and soaked with sweat. He didn't tug or pull, simply stroked. No talking, they just breathed together, laboured and spent.

"Damn..." Cartman suddenly said. "Heidi's such a dumb bitch..."

Kyle shook his head, nuzzling Cartman's jaw inadvertently.

"Don't talk about her..."

"I'm just saying, if that's how you used to fuck her then she really messed up..."

Kyle smiled, chuckled despite himself. He sat up, peeling himself away from Cartman and getting up off the car. He pulled up his pants, and it perhaps signalled to Cartman that he should get dressed too. He fixed his bra and skirt, and sat up so he could pull his panties on. Kyle spotted his vest on the floor.

"Here..." he said, handing it to him.

Cartman plucked it from his grasp, lips pressed tightly together.

"Um... Kyle? I can call you that in here, right?"

"I... I guess," Kyle replied, slipping his own vest on. It felt weird to call each other by anything else, but his stomach twisted when he imagined Cartman calling him by his name during sex. That would just be mortifying. "Maybe not when we're..."

"So we are gonna do it again?"

Kyle froze. He hadn't realised how matter-of-fact he sounded, so sure that it was a given they would do this again. Maybe he was still floating down from his high. It was inconceivable to stop now, to give this up... shit, could this become addictive? Like any other burgeoning addict, Kyle would never admit it out loud.

"I don't know," he replied, testily. "Do we have to decide anything right now?"

Cartman shrugged, his eyes wandered the floor.

"I'm just saying..." he looked up at Kyle with a small, goading smile. "I'm okay with it, if you are..."

Kyle blinked. His bluff called with that single admission.

"Really?"

Cartman nodded, smile broadening.

"Then... I mean..." Kyle sighed, quit searching for some clever answer. "Of course I'd wanna do it again...

Cartman's delighted smile was infectious.

"I knew you wouldn't wanna stop," he teased, as Kyle drew closer to him. "Pretty fucking incredible, right?"

Kyle nodded, taste still on his tongue, moans still ringing in his ears.

Cartman grinned.

"Even better than-"

Kyle interrupted him with a kiss. His chin was placed between Kyle's thumb and index finger. When Kyle pulled away, he did so with Cartman's bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Don't talk about her..."

Cartman nodded, eyes lidded and hypnotised. They kissed again, lips parting and tongues meeting.

"What happens now?" Kyle asked. He couldn't believe he was asking Eric Cartman of all people how to behave like a normal human being, but they had to establish some boundaries. "In the real world?"

Cartman shrugged, flippant.

"Nothing. It's just a game thing, right?"

Kyle nodded, as if to convince himself this didn't matter.

"Right. It doesn't change... us..."

He cringed at the last word, and all its unified, fond connotations, the implication that his and Cartman's relationship was something to be treasured, considered worthy of preservation. It didn't mean he wanted to alienate himself from Cartman though, or for a dynamic that had been a part of him his whole life to suddenly disappear.

"Totally..." Cartman replied, beaming, eager as always to have his cake and eat it too.

And Kyle kissed him because in here, he appreciated that philosophy, because in here he could, and he wanted to.

"Nothing changes, okay?" he murmured into his mouth. It was a plea and a vow, all in one.

Cartman nodded, and sealed it with a kiss.

* * *

**A/N:** _How was that? I'd love to know your thoughts, and I hope you enjoyed! As always, thank you for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _This chapter is pretty short, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless! Thank you for reading, and I'd love to know your thoughts!_

* * *

Eric had been hooking up with Kyle in virtual reality every night for just over a week now, and they already had their routine down. All in all, it took them about 8 seconds to place the Universum on their temples, choose their characters, and to start kissing and groping each other. It was a timeframe that suited Eric, he was too impatient to wait any longer than that, especially when he had to go all day, counting down the hours until his next fix. Because nothing had ever felt as good as this, there was little that could compare to it; not bingeing on his favourite food, not masturbating, and not even his favourite pastime, fighting with Kyle, felt as intense. Although he was wary at first that this exciting new activity would threaten the latter. He wanted both, and didn't see why he couldn't have it, but was worried that Kyle would be too weirded out to act normal around him, to respond with his usual acerbic bite.

But despite a brief adjustment period, nothing much had changed. For the first day or two Eric had found himself wanting to stare at Kyle more. Not because he was interesting to look at, but it was hard for his gaze not to be drawn to him when their late-night hook-ups were all he could think about. It was mortifying when Kyle caught his stare, like they were both terrified they had revealed something they shouldn't have just by looking at each other. But that shock faded away, had been buried away so as not to jeopardise this. Honestly, Eric was pretty proud of the both of them. He felt as though they may have found the perfect balance. People may say you can't have your cake and eat it, but Eric knew that if you achieved the right amount of mental distance from your actions, then it was possible, and it was so easy in a virtual reality. In here you could fight your friends, make them bleed, break their bones and in a matter of seconds the blood would dry up, and the bones would pop back into place. In here you could even fuck your friends, touch them and scream unabashedly, and you could still be cool with them the next day. For so long Eric had tried to make his own world one with no consequences, now he had finally found such a world he sometimes wished he didn't have to leave.

Currently, they were in a nightclub, surrounded by dancing, sweaty bodies. The music that was pounding from the speakers was pretty lame, the bass wriggling in his gut, but Kyle's hands were on Eric's waist, hips, ass, and he was looking only at him. Kyle had been reluctant at first, since dancing wasn't really his thing. Eric didn't know why he wanted to join the jostling crowded himself, why he wanted to dance to the clichéd techno music except that he knew he looked good, and that Kyle looked good too, and if the people around them weren't pieces of disposable, flaky code pretending to be a person, then they would be envious of this hot couple in the middle of the dancefloor, so clearly into each other. It didn't take much to convince Kyle when he lowered his chin, and bit his lip, and held his hand out to him. Kyle acted like he was begrudgingly pulled onto the dance floor, but Eric knew he would do anything to be close to him... to 'Amber'... whatever, that bitch was him so Kyle wanted to be close to _him_.

Kyle's face switched from hot pink to electric blue as the lights flashed, blared, and twirled, their own chaotic choreography. His contented smile and lidded eyes never faltered, and he tilted his head and leaned in closer until their noses were brushing together. Eric was the one to kiss him, nails pinching his biceps. His eyes drooped shut when Kyle shoved his tongue in his mouth, hands squeezing his ass and pulling them close, bodies connecting. They kissed, sloppy, and eager, and off-beat to the music for a little bit before Eric decided he couldn't wait anymore. Their lips parted, and Eric took Kyle's hand and began to lead him away from the dance floor.

"Where are we going?" Kyle shouted in his ear.

"The bathroom!"

"Huh? What... now?"

"Yeah!" Eric nodded, turning around and arching an eyebrow because this was the first complaint Kyle had ever raised. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No! It's just... can we go somewhere else? I don't wanna fuck you next to a bowl of piss!"

Eric huffed.

"It's either that or the alley!"

Fifteen minutes later Eric was bent over, his hands pressed to a brick wall, palms stinging and scraping as Kyle fucked him fast and rough. Eric was close, and he could tell Kyle was too. He always squeezed him a little tighter, his groans and pants tripling, climbing in desperation. The big, sharp intake of breath Eric took just before he came stung more than the brick scraping against his palms, the sound breaking open a series of sobs as he reached his climax. Kyle had cum too, bodies still rocking together with the slow, indulgent aftershocks. Eric felt him slump after a while, his hold on him loosening, apologetically stroking areas most likely marked pink with the indentions of his fingers.

Trying to catch his breath, Eric rested his forehead against the wall, barely acknowledging when Kyle pulled out of him. Fingers threaded through a lock of his hair. Eric turned around, flushed, and hazy, and trying to blink his eyes open. Kyle was smiling at him, wide and beaming. Eric returned it, the corners of his mouth piquing up even when Kyle's lips were pressed to his. Kyle placed his hands on the wall now, pushing Eric up against it. Post-orgasm, the world was dripping back into focus for Eric. Kyle's kiss and warm body pressed flush to his made up for the gleaming, black garbage bags, and the dumpsters, and the garbled chatter of people a few feet away from them, lining up to get into the club.

"It smells like shit out here..." Eric murmured against his mouth.

"And the bathroom would've been better?"

"This smells like a hundred, literally shitty bathrooms combined."

"You didn't seem to mind a minute ago..."

"You were fucking me. We could've been in a sewer surrounded by racist Christmas poos doped up on sleeping pills and I wouldn't have cared."

Kyle chuckled, kissing Eric again before they parted so he could tuck his dick back in his pants. Eric ran a hand through his hair, and fixed his panties.

"Um... did they tell you about that Grand Canyon trip in homeroom today?" Kyle asked, zipping up his fly.

They liked to keep conversation to a minimal before and during sex, but there seemed to be some strange exception for afterward. Pillow-talk, Eric supposed, it wasn't unusual.

"Yeah? Sounds dumb... what are we gonna learn from a bunch of craters in the desert?"

"Since when did you actually care about learning?"

"I don't. But if they're gonna take us on a pointless trip that's not educational, they should at least take us somewhere fun."

"So you're not going then?"

"Well, yeah, of course I am..." he fidgeted, suddenly interested in the grimy ground. He figured he should stop acting like a dumbass and look at Kyle. "Are you?"

Kyle nodded.

"Good," Eric said, serious. "You guys aren't ditching me."

Kyle smiled and rolled his eyes, before he raked them over Eric. It sent a familiar shiver down his spine, recalling what would usually follow after Kyle looked at him like that. Even in this world, he was becoming so predictable. Kyle kissed him again, and Eric gladly welcomed it.

"I'm gonna go," he murmured, pulling away. "See you tomorrow."

Eric nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, see you..."

"Exit game!" Kyle called, vanishing right before his eyes.

* * *

_Eric is stood in the alley where he and Kyle had... if not their first fight, then their first kiss. That is, the first kiss in the world they escape to, the first kiss that mattered. But this alley feels hazier than it did before, holographic, like Eric could put his hand right through it and rip it apart. He tries to, and sees his _own_ hand. Chubby fingers, and short nails, what the fuck?! He pats his chest, soft and flat. He pets his face, and feels stubborn peach fuzz. He looks down and it's his body, ordinary and permanent and it unnerves him because, where ever he is, it doesn't feel real, or solid. He feels like a mirror reflection. There's a disconnect between his mind and his body, and even though he surrenders his consciousness to the Universum every night, this strange absence of control over himself is frightening. _

_"Ready?"_

_Eric looks up and Kyle - the real Kyle - is there. Grinning, fists raised, eyes menacing. Kyle doesn't look at all perturbed in whatever warped, uncanny version of their virtual world they're in. _

_"What the fuck?! Kyle, what the hell are you doing here?"_

_Kyle shrugs. _

_"Same thing as you, I guess..."_

_"Wha... what kind of answer is that?! _I_ don't even know what I'm doing here!"_

_Kyle snickers, but his eyes are dark and focused on Eric._

_"I'm gonna fuck you up, asshole..."_

_A shiver rolls down Eric's spine, his gut clenches, and it's the most tactile thing he can register in here. It makes him nauseous, he has no idea what Kyle is talking about, or what his words actually mean. _

_"Huh?" His mouth is dry. "What? You wanna-"_

_Kyle nods, and it's enough to cut Eric's words off completely._

_"You're not scared, are you?"_

_That nauseating feeling in his stomach mellows into excitement, some suddenly discovered confidence. His movements are still erratic, and he punches Kyle in the nose. He stumbles backwards, and doesn't make a sound. When he lifts his head to look at Eric, blood is pouring out of his nostrils already, and Kyle appears pale and drained. He's queasy again, and he doesn't know if it's due to the blood or the fact that he may have actually broken Kyle's nose. It certainly whets his appetite for control, but maybe he's gorged enough already to make himself sick? _

_"Shit..." he whispers._

_Kyle snarls and shoves him. They soon collide and all Eric can register is shirts being tugged, fists flying, and hands reaching out to grab each other. But their movements are clumsy and lethargic, not really landing at all and Eric doesn't know why he's doing this if not to get a hold of Kyle, grab him, and shake him, and look him in the eye but he keeps disappearing. Eric won't show mercy, not when Kyle's pants and huffs of effort are twinned with his own, tempting sprites that whisper in his ear, lead him to nowhere, and turn him on; not when Kyle's scent pierces the haze, some kind of coconut shampoo mingling with fucking Axe bodyspray. Eric can't believe how Kyle smells is something he's stored away in his brain, or how such a combination is now the most intoxicating scent in the world to him. But he spends every day with Kyle and he often stands real close to him, so maybe that's a less pathetic explanation as to why he can recall it so vividly._

_Another tactile, unavoidable realisation? His dick is hard, and the situation is not helped when Kyle pushes him up against a wall. It's too familiar, Eric has been here before. Heart racing, body burning, shaking as he waited for Kyle to _do something_. His cheek is pressed against the brick, his breathing is louder, laboured and he cringes at how gross he sounds, how _weak_. Kyle has his arms pinned, his chest pressed against Eric's back. There's cool breath on the nape of his searing neck. _

_"Told you..." Kyle murmurs. _

_He rolls his hips, and Eric can feel his hard cock straining his jeans, rubbing right up against him. It messes his breathing up. _

_"Kyle..." he whispers as he continues to slowly roll his hips against his ass. _

_"You really want this, don't you?" Kyle teases, voice low and goading. "You want me to fuck you up, huh?" His teeth graze the ridge of his ear and tug at the lobe. Eric shivers. Kyle's voice is gritty and menacing, and Eric feels like he's going to cum in his pants when he says: "I'm gonna destroy you..."_

Eric woke up with a sound that would be best described as a startled snore. His shirt was sticking to his sweaty back, his pounding heart and panting breaths filling up his dark bedroom. Sleepy disappointment soon sharpened into horrifying clarity when he realised what he was dreaming about, and when he clocked the familiar stickiness in his underwear. He switched his lamp on, looked under the covers and noticed an unmistakable damp patch at the front of his boxers.

"Shit..." he muttered, face burning and hands shaking as he reached over into his nightstand for some tissues.

As he cleaned himself up, he felt like he might vomit. This wasn't the first time he had had a wet dream, of course, and definitely _not_ the first wet dream he had about a guy. But why the hell did it have to be Kyle? When did Kyle suddenly become so alluring, so... attractive? Eric could see that mental distance between the virtual and the real, himself and Kyle closing and he had no idea how to stop it from happening, but he would try. For now, he could only throw the covers over his head and bury his face in his pillow, like he was protecting himself from a nightmare coming true.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **_I just realised I could've combined this chapter and last chapter together to make a longer chapter but... oh well. I promise the next chapter will be longer! Or maybe we'll just pretend that chapter 3 was split in half and this is the second part? Anyway, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts!_

* * *

Something was wrong with Eric, and it was all Kyle's fault.

He had rolled out of bed that morning, his alarm interrupting his sleepless obsessing, exhausted, and angry, and nauseous. He barely ate, could hardly focus on anything except that dream, on Kyle's smug voice, and lovely scent, and stupid face he wanted to kiss all over... but he was determined that, even if his thoughts were bubbling over with feverish fantasises and fretting, he would be cool on the outside. Calm, chill, nothing out of the ordinary. But seeing Kyle sitting shotgun in Stan's car on the way to school made his skin flare, his stomach knot, his words vanish from his throat, cowering and submissive like he had been in that damn dream.

He tried not to look at Kyle, not talk to him, not rile him up, which was easier said than done when he spent most of his day in Kyle's company, when talking to him was one of his favourite things to do. He felt like an addict, denying himself a gradual withdrawal and going straight to cold turkey. There was no worthy substitute to Kyle after all, no other high could compare to it. It was startling, how much thrill could be found in Kyle - annoying, self-righteous, gorgeous Kyle. Eric was crumbling without him, his ears pricking up at the sound of his voice, his eyes drawing to him even if they prompted his awful fever - sweaty palms, racing heart, clenching gut. The worst thing was, Kyle was noticing, and Eric's gaze would often snag on long, contemplative stares that he wasn't sure Kyle wanted him to see.

He was _this_ close to going home sick, but running away felt like admitting defeat, fleeing would surely prompt a reaction from Kyle. It would be the type of thing that would make him come over to his house, nag and lecture him, and maybe suggest that playing the game wasn't such a good idea if was going to make things weird between them, and there was no way in hell Eric was going to let Kyle take that away from him. But because Eric's day couldn't get any worse, they had gym class which meant being stuck in a room and watching Kyle undress, a bittersweet purgatory if there ever was one.

He thanked whatever God still gave a shit about him that the locker room was as crowded and boisterous as usual, and for Kenny to choose the locker next to his. Eric had hung back from the locker room initially, gathering the courage to step inside and still debating making a run for it. He hoped that when he finally got inside, Kyle would be changed into his gym kit, but he had no such luck.

Eric had greeted Kenny with a terse nod, opening his locker and peeling off his jacket when his eyes wandered the room and saw Kyle chatting to Stan, annoyingly aloof. God, were Eric's eyes just fucking magnets to him? He could feel his skin start to flush as he stared, but his oblivious classmates were an emboldening partition. He watched as Kyle lifted the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his chest, giving taut, lean muscles a chance to stretch, and revealing milky skin, and shoulders dappled with freckles, and God, how Eric wished he could go back to a few days ago, when he didn't give a fuck about a shirtless Kyle.

Kyle soon glanced at him, and Eric was smart enough to whip his head away. His heart was pounding in his ears, his cheeks were on fire. He scowled, and slammed his locker shut.

"Hey... " he said, giving Kenny a shove.

Kenny frowned at him, eyebrows knitted together.

"Let's bail. I can't deal with this shit today."

Kenny blinked, nodding as he considered Eric's invitation.

"Okay..."

Soon, Eric was sat under the bleachers with Kenny, shivering and breathing in his second-hand smoke, wondering why he ever thought this was a better alternative. It seemed like no matter where he went his mind would drift away to thoughts of Kyle, anxious, and angry, and full of daydreams. Perhaps he should've suggested they go anywhere other than the place he kissed Kyle only a week ago, a kiss as frosty as the grass beneath them. But Eric was remembering the moment quite differently now. In his revised memory, Kyle had grabbed him, pinned him up against the fence with a loud rattle, shoved his tongue in his mouth, and his hand down his pants...

"Dude, are you actually gonna talk to me at some point?" Eric snapped.

"What? Sorry, I guess I was just enjoying the silence."

Eric huffed, and rolled his eyes.

"Lame. You're, like, the worst person to ditch with."

"Who else is gonna ditch with you? I didn't have to come with you today."

Eric made a bigger show of rolling his eyes, pulling a face like he was sick of Kenny's shit.

"Sorry I'm denying you the public humiliation of jogging around the gym and having to stare at Clyde's dumpy ass-"

Kenny glanced Eric up and down, and snorted.

"Dude, like you're one to talk..." he took a drag of his cigarette. "Besides, Clyde's got a cute butt."

"Nah, Token's is better.." Eric was smiling now, finally starting to relax.

He remembered why Kenny was always the one he ditched with, who he went to when his thoughts were all jumbled, because he could talk to Kenny about anything. Kenny just listened, a non-judgemental wall who Eric could throw all his pathetic, personal shit onto and know it would stick.

"Hey, let's play fuck, marry, kill," Eric proposed. "Gym class edition."

He saw Kenny smirking around the cigarette in his mouth. Even if Eric had never told anybody he liked guys, he had no problem talking about them with Kenny. Eric had no idea what Kenny's sexual orientation was either, other than he'd definitely had sex with at least four girls in their grade and could appreciate the male form too.

"Fine... Craig, Tweek, or Clyde?"

"Hmm..." Eric tilted his chin as he considered his choice. "Fuck Craig, marry Clyde, kill Tweek. You?"

Kenny nodded.

"Fuck Clyde, marry Tweek, kill Craig."

"You really like Clyde's ass that much?"

"Well, the only way I'm gonna hit that is in a hypothetical scenario. I'll take what I can get."

"Okay, okay, I've got a good one... Butters, David, or Token?"

"Shit, that's a toughie..." Kenny muttered. "I'd have to say... fuck David, marry Butters, kill Token."

"Dude, what? You'd kill Token, and marry Butters?!"

Kenny shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I think Butters would make a good husband."

"And Token wouldn't?" Eric replied, still incredulous. "He's rich, how could you not make him your sugar daddy?"

"So let me guess, you'd fuck David, marry Token... and kill Butters?"

Eric scoffed.

"Yeah, easily."

"At least we agree on one thing."

"David is super hot?"

Kenny nodded, face stern and serious.

"Oh, the hottest guy in our grade, definitely. Alright, it's my turn... Stan, Kyle, or Kevin?"

Eric choked on the lump in his throat, but tried to swallow it down.

"Uhh... I guess fuck Stan, marry Kevin, and kill Kyle," he replied, as quickly as he could.

"Wow... really?"

"Yeah?" he replied, sharp and tense. "Stan's cute in an average sort of way... what, you want me to fucking show you my workings?"

"Dude, chill, it's just..."

"What?" he snapped.

"I'm a little surprised..." Kenny chuckled, before his smile faded and he arched an eyebrow at Eric. "You would really kill Kyle?"

Eric balked at the possibility. In his younger, more naive days having no Kyle in his life certainly seemed like a fulfilling fantasy, but he soon learned better, and despite all his bravado the very notion of Kyle being unceremoniously taken away from him, ripped out of his life with nothing he could do about it was a frightening one to consider.

"Well... I don't... in a hypothetical scenario, yeah, I would! Not having to listen to his bitching everyday would be a fucking blessing..."

Kenny didn't respond, and Eric was unsure if he convinced him or not. He sighed.

"Just seems a shame, that's all..."

"Why?"

"Well, because..." Kenny stopped, sighed again. It was a shorter exhale this time, like he was carefully considering his response. "Yeah, your marriage would probably be doomed from the start, but you two would be like fucking animals in the sack..."

Eric blinked, and he wasn't sure if his sudden flushing was due to embarrassment or... intrigue. When he fought with Kyle he poured everything he had into it, and afterward his throat would be scratchy, and his body would burn and thrum with adrenaline. He could feel all of that radiating off Kyle too, and there was something primal in that. Snarling and seething, they most likely looked far from human. In the game, unabashed and inhibitions forgotten, it was a more potent hit, and they could claw at each other, bite at each other, with growls, and howls, and screams. Could the impossible middle ground be even better? Eric couldn't even consider it, so he pushed it out of his mind.

"Seems like you've thought a lot about this..." he murmured.

Kenny shrugged.

"Not a lot, it's crossed my mind from time to time..." he was looking at a random spot out of the corner of his eye, tongue prodding at his lip before he looked at Eric and asked: "Have you ever thought about it?"

"What?!" Eric yelped, hating the sound. "No! Why would you even think that, Kenny? We hate each other!"

"Hate sex is hot, man. And you're, like, obsessed with each other! Come on, you haven't even thought about it onc-"

"No, I haven't!" Eric cut in, hoping the firmer he said it, the more convincing it would sound, so maybe then even _he_ would believe it. "Jesus, is this all you wanna fucking talk about?"

"Dude, I'm just saying-"

"Well, don't! It's never gonna happen!"

Kenny raised his hands in defence.

"I know, man, we're just talking here-"

"Seriously, Kenny, I'm done," Eric muttered, voice dark and low. He couldn't bear to look at Kenny, so he stared at the grass. "I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

"You don't even wanna hear my answer?"

"No, this was fucking dumb..."

The beat dragged on in excruciating silence, and would do so forever unless they broke it. Eric rolled his eyes and huffed.

"Fine, go ahead."

"Kill Kevin, marry Stan, and fuck Kyle..."

Eric's whole body stiffened, and there was a familiar sour feeling spreading across his chest, of wanting to cling to an intangible something. He looked up at Kenny, who had put out his cigarette and was rolling another one, indifferent, like a prick.

"What?" he asked innocently, and it made the fact Eric was glaring at him even more mortifying. "Is there a problem?"

Eric narrowed his eyes at him.

"No..."

* * *

Eric couldn't even pretend he had better things to do when he got home from school. He jogged up the stairs, went online and simply stared at the corner of the screen for any kind of notification that Kyle was online too. After half an hour, he got hungry and wandered downstairs for some food, made the usual, perfunctory small talk with his mom and returned to his room. After two hours his skin was starting to crawl with dread, and with nothing else to do he instead listened to the warring voices in his head. Pathetic paranoia versus insistences he was fine, and it looked like pathetic paranoia was winning. What was Kyle doing? What was taking him so long? What if he was bored of this? What if it had got too weird, and Kyle couldn't do this anymore? But Kyle would tell him that, wouldn't he? He had a right to know... could he ask him all these questions without coming off like a freak? Nearly three hours later he was simmering in anger, and hurt, and humiliation. He entertained petty daydreams of making Kyle wait, seeing how he liked being denied, but he had been waiting too long to then suddenly settle for a night of abstinence.

He nearly leapt off his bed when he saw that Kyle was online, and accepted his invitation to play with shaking hands. His tooth grazed his lip, trying to contain his smile as he selected Amber as his character. His stomach once wringing with worry was now fluttering with excitement.

He was soon stood in that familiar alley again, with Kyle right in front of him. There was no time for coyness, or pleasantries. He grabbed Kyle's shirt, smashing their lips together. Eric twisted the material, pulling Kyle towards him and their mouths separated with a huff when Eric's back met a cold, brick wall. Kyle kissed him again, pressing their bodies flush together. Eric shivered when Kyle's hands slipped under his shirt, cool palms on hot skin.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Eric asked in between kisses.

"I had Debate today. It ran a little longer than-"

"Whatever," Eric grumbled, not really caring. "Just fuck me..."

Kyle didn't say anything else, just crashed their lips together hard enough to make Eric feel dizzy. His eyelids fluttered when Kyle shoved his tongue in his mouth, and his hand squeezed his waist. That unusual, deep warmth that he had never experienced outside the game was returning to him now, hot, and hazy, and stealing his breath. He whimpered, nails dragging across Kyle's skin when he shoved his hand between his legs. His thighs twitched, he had become so sensitive to Kyle's touch now. One brush of his fingertips against his skin made his whole body prickle, then melt. He broke their kiss with a sharp, sultry gasp when Kyle slid his fingers along his opening and stroked his clit.

"Shit..." Kyle whispered, pulling back only slightly to study Eric with dark eyes. "You're that wet already?"

Eric was still blinking his eyes open, breaths threadbare and quivering when Kyle's hand was still in his panties.

"I've been waiting for this all day..." he murmured, face growing hotter with his confession.

Kyle nodded, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Yeah..." _kiss_ "me too..."

They parted again, and Kyle pulled his hand out of Eric's underwear. They were both panting, staring at each other with lidded eyes. Eric suffocated a moan when he watched Kyle suck the wetness off his fingers. The sound of his fly being unzipped never sounded sweeter.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **_A longer chapter, as promised! I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts!_

* * *

Saturday night, and Eric was sat in his living room, watching TV and scrolling through his phone. This was a typical Saturday for him, there weren't too many places a teenager in South Park could go except to their friends houses, a basement, or the woods, and there was nothing much to do there except drink, or get high. But nobody seemed up for doing any of those things tonight.

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Mom!" he called, craning his neck in the direction of the stairs. "Door!"

"Could you get it, poopsikins? I'm just getting dressed!"

Eric rolled his eyes. Apparently, some people _were_ going to have fun tonight. His mom had a date with her lame boyfriend, and Eric did not relish the thought of making small talk with him as they waited for his mom to get ready. Still, he hauled himself off the couch and answered the door.

"Oh, hi, Eric..." Richard said, pushing his glasses further up his nose. His shaky smile barely hid his disappointment. Clearly, he didn't enjoy talking to Eric a great deal either.

"Hey."

"Your mom still getting ready?"

"Yeah, she shouldn't be too long," Eric replied, before standing aside. "Come in..."

Richard nodded, smile tight and head slightly lowered as he entered the house, like he was a lesser male intruding on another's territory. Eric's nose wrinkled when he thought of it like that. How could he ever be jealous of Richard, after all? His timid nature, and the fact that Richard felt he should be threatened by him at all made Eric dislike him even more. He flopped back onto the couch, content to ignore him.

"So... do you have any big plans for tonight?" Richard asked, perched on the armchair.

"Not really..."

"Your mom tells me you're going to the Grand Canyon in two weeks."

Eric lifted his head from his phone.

"Yeah?"

"Are you looking forward to it?"

A part of Eric was - the part of him that wanted to spend a long weekend with Kyle, that wanted to see Kyle all sun-burned in a pair of shorts. But he was trying to ignore that part of him right now, hoping that if was starved of attention it would simply fade away - just a weird crush brought on by usual teenage sexual frustration, and the boundaries of reality being muddled.

"I don't know," Eric replied, upholding the party line. "It's just a school thing."

Richard shrugged, with a smug smile.

"School things can be fun."

Eric arched an eyebrow.

_Is this the kind of scintillating conversation my mom can expect tonight? _

"I guess..." he mumbled, returning his attention to his phone.

He turned his head at the sound of high heels coming down the stairs, his mom in an outfit that was way too much for an evening in Buca De Faggicini. But even with a boyfriend she rarely got out, so Eric chose not to comment on it.

"Hey!" Richard said, bright eyes being drawn to the v-shaped neckline of her dress. "You look great!"

His mom actually blushed, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you." She smiled, before turning to Eric. "Sweetie, I shouldn't be too late, and there's lasagne in the fridge if you get hungry."

"Okay..."

"Alright, well, I'll see you tonight," she added, walking to the door with Richard and letting him put her coat on for her. "I love you, poopsikins!"

"Yeah, see you later," Eric replied, rolling his eyes.

"Bye, Eric," Richard added feebly.

Eric simply nodded. If Richard saw him as the alpha male, he may as well go along with it.

Then, he was alone. This was hardly the first time, but the empty, silent house seemed to close its jaws around him, forcing him to look around the living room and ponder what exactly he wanted to do with his Saturday evening. Of course, there was one guaranteed activity that was sure to set his heart racing, his adrenaline pumping, his mind free. Sex in the game had become commonplace, but was still incredible. Eric hadn't jerked off for a week, since that dreaded dirty dream. Partly because he felt gratified enough with Kyle's touch, and with sex in a body he never knew could feel so good, but also because he was afraid of where his mind would wander if he slipped his hand into his boxers. Of course he knew where it would wander, to the person he couldn't stop thinking about, the only person he wanted to be around right now, bored, and alone in an empty house.

He chewed his lip as he contemplated asking Kyle if he wanted to come over. It may prove to be counter-productive to his mission to get over him, but he had been craving Kyle's company just as much as any virtual connection. They were friends, weren't they? Even if they didn't act like it sometimes, even if Eric was frequently pondering if they could be more than that... if he really _wanted_ more than that.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he text Kyle.

"_you busy?"_

Eric watched the screen, anticipation clutching at his chest when he saw that Kyle was typing.

"_no" Kyle replied. "why?"_

Eric rolled his eyes and snickered at Kyle's suspicion, but thought carefully about his response.

"_i'm so bored i actually wanna hang out with you," _he decided on sending.

"_just me?"_

Eric deflated a little, dread creeping in when he realised that he could scare Kyle off, confirm his suspicions. He gritted his teeth as he typed his reply, compromising with his pride.

"_idk invite the guys too if u want." _He didn't even wait for Kyle to answer when he sent another message_. "are you coming over or not?"_

Kyle replied straight away.

"_yeah, i'll be 5 mins."_

Eric grinned, wriggling in his seat. His evening was about to get interesting.

* * *

By the time the credits for _IT Chapter 2_ had rolled around, Eric and Kyle had almost polished off the lasagne his mom left for him in the fridge. He felt a little bloated, but content too, like pleased cats who roll around on the floor with eyes closed, showing their full bellies. It was a different kind of contentment than he was used to feeling around Kyle. His throat wasn't scratchy, his mind wasn't thrumming with insults, or the echoes of Kyle's razored voice. He wasn't panting, or sweating, descending from a keen, virtual high in a body that didn't belong to him. He was just lounging on his couch, gently prodding Kyle with his bickering and enjoying the rolls of his eyes and the exasperated smiles he replied with. It was almost as if when they were alone, they were okay with each other, able to enjoy their dynamic, to deal softer blows. It was like when they were in public, they knew their friendship was unusual, and unorthodox and while Eric didn't give a shit, Kyle did. So he had to scream at Eric, snap at him, and seethe to drown out his embarrassment, to channel his frustration that Eric could rile him up so spectacularly. Just the two of them, Kyle could be himself and even when he had Paul's muscles, and handsome face, and gorgeous beard that scraped against Eric's face, neck, thighs when he kissed him, Eric was slowly discovering how much he appreciated Kyle just the way he was.

"That was kinda anti-climactic..." Kyle said.

Eric nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his soda.

"First one was better."

"The _book_ is better."

Eric rolled his eyes, making sure to exaggerate it.

"Oh God, of course you're one of _those _dickheads. Like, cool, you read, good for you, Kyle..."

Kyle shook his head.

"If that's meant to insult me, then it doesn't. But the book really _is_ better. This is just a pandering, bland version of the story. I hate how Hollywood treats us all like we're stupid." Eric noticed the tone of Kyle's voice shift into rant mode. "It doesn't challenge us, at all. I mean, in the book those characters are meant to look ordinary, not like movie stars. Why not cast regular people-"

"Because regular people aren't movie stars, and nobody wants to watch a movie full of ugly people."

"I would!" Kyle argued. "At least that would be real..."

His voice trailed off wisely. Eric would've made a comment about how Kyle clearly had no problem indulging in made-up things, in hedonistic worlds but knew Kyle would just accuse him of being a hypocrite.

"Anyway, what time is it?" Kyle asked, shifting in his seat as he changed the subject.

Eric looked at his phone.

"Eleven thirty?" Disappointment needled his voice when he asked: "Do you need to go home?"

"No, I can hang out a little longer..." Kyle looked at him. "That's okay, isn't it?"

Eric shrugged, in an attempt to hide his delight.

"Well, I've got nothing better to do."

"Okay... you wanna watch another movie?"

"Nah," Eric replied. "We could play a game?"

Kyle frowned, his eyes flashing, wary. His reluctance dawned on Eric, and panic rushed through him. His face was probably as red as a blaring police siren.

"Fuck, Kyle, I didn't mean _that_ game!"

Kyle sighed with his whole body.

"Alright, good-"

"What would be the point?" Eric cut in, unable to stop rambling. "We're in the same room..."

"Yeah, that would be pretty stupid..." Kyle murmured.

The beat soon passed, breaths slowing down to a normal pace, lowering to a normal, less anxious volume. Eric's face felt cooler, and his face was probably more on the pink side now. The mention of the game still hung in the air, and Eric realised they hadn't talked about it since that stiff, awkward kiss under the bleachers. Maybe they should talk about it now? The evening had been so easy and comfortable, and the conversation had been the same.

"I've been thinking, when you leave the game..." he flicked some dust off the arm of the couch as he geared himself up for what he was about to ask. "Do you cum in real life?"

Kyle blinked, frowning again. But his eyes weren't so wary.

"What?"

Eric found himself smirking.

"You know, after we've..." he made some vague hand gesture that could've meant anything, but he knew Kyle was smart enough to pick up on what he was trying to say. "Have you jizzed in your pants?"

Kyle laughed.

"No... " he grinned, shaking his head. He arched his eyebrow at Eric. "You don't, do you?"

Eric fidgeted and swallowed, but shook his head.

"No... "

Kyle shifted his body so his shoulder was pressed into the couch cushion, his whole body facing Eric directly.

"What does it feel like for you?" he asked, still smiling. But his voice was soft and curious. "In the game? Does it feel different to real life?"

Eric's throat felt tight, like even if he knew how to answer his mouth wouldn't let him. Of course it was different, but besides the obvious reasons, he hadn't figured out why it felt different, _better_. Was it because his body was different? Because the world was different? Or were all those things inconsequential, the only thing that was familiar responsible for making him feel so incredible?

"Yeah... like, when I cum in real life, it feels pretty great. You know, you jerk off, and it's hot, and its relentless, but when you cum it's like this awesome release. Like, crashing on your bed at the end of the day. It just feels _good_."

Kyle snickered, eyes never leaving Eric's face.

"But when I cum in the game, it's like lightning coursing through me, you know?" Eric added, smile growing wider and he could feel excitement brimming in his chest. "And that's hot too, so hot it burns... and it's sweet, and it takes a lot out of me, but then I'm just... melting, and it feels fucking amazing."

In the wake of his admission, his unfiltered description, he felt embarrassed. But Kyle didn't rip on him, scoff, or roll his eyes. He was still smiling, fond and hazy. He had never looked at Eric that way before, and it made his cock twitch, his mouth feel dry.

"Does it feel like that for you?" he asked, thankful his voice hadn't yet disintegrated into a whisper.

Kyle nodded, eyes wandering away from Eric's face as he contemplated his answer.

"A little. It sort of feels like getting off in real life but more intense... sort of pure, and raw, and I just enjoy it more. I guess it feels better because I'm not thinking about anything else-"

"Is that what it was like with Heidi?"

Kyle frowned, eyes lowered.

"She said I was in my head too much. She thought I wasn't into her..."

"Were you?"

Kyle's brow was creased when he looked up at Eric, frowning even harder.

"Yeah, of course I was!"

"But you're into Amber more?" Eric pressed, undeterred. His palms were damp, his heart was pounding, everything in his body was telling him to stop pushing but he really didn't want to.

"I..." Kyle blinked, the crease in his brow growing deeper as he thought. He gulped. "I, um..."

"It's okay if you are..." Eric whispered, not knowing if that was true.

Kyle huffed, rolled his eyes.

"I-I-I know, it's just..." he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if it could help him concentrate, or push out his thoughts all together.

Eric didn't want him to bottle anything up, he wanted to hear him say how much he was into Amber, how much he thought about her, how much he wanted her more than anybody else.

"It's okay if you think about her, Kyle..."

Kyle softened, a sigh escaping his nostrils. His eyes were still closed, gentler than before, as if he were sleeping, daydreaming about her.

"Her hair... and her mouth... and her hot, wet pussy..." Eric whispered, voice low and humid.

Kyle gulped, and his eyebrows twitched. Eric noticed a bulge in his jeans and had to smother a pathetic, weird whimper from leaving his lips. He leaned forward, and could feel the heat coming off Kyle's face. Kyle opened his eyes, dark and bewildered, but Eric didn't move. Their breathing was coming hard and hot between them, and Eric could see his reflection in Kyle's eyes.

"I think about you too..." he murmured, he might as well.

Kyle blinked, and he made a stifled, confused - but adorable - sound. His eyes searched Eric's face, wandering down his brow, his nose, and then finally landing on his lips. He closed his eyes when reached that spot, leaning forward. Eric's heart was pounding in his ears harder and faster than an enthusiastic drum solo. The anticipation, and disbelief, and arousal was asphyxiating, nauseating, but it was a rush he didn't want to relinquish. He closed his eyes, his quivering lips parting, believing more than anything that this kiss would be a thousand times better than the first one they shared.

Or, at least, it would've been if they weren't snapped out of their reverie by the front door opening, and his drunken mom and Richard stumbling in. The sound of their giggles, and smacking smooches killed the mood instantly.

"Oh! Sorry, sweetie, I didn't think you'd still be down here..." his mom said, unembarrassed. "Or that you'd have a friend over! Hello, Kyle!"

"Hi, Miss Cartman..." Kyle replied, still breathless.

"Kyle, this is Richard..."

"Hi, Kyle," Richard replied with a short wave. "Nice to meet you."

"Hi..." Kyle nodded, with a tight, polite smile.

"Mom, what the hell?!" Eric snapped.

"We'll just leave you two alone," his mom said, but the moment was long gone.

She led Richard up the stairs, both of them giggling like horny teenagers when the _actual_ horny teenagers in the house were left deflated and confused on the couch. They watched them go up the stairs in silence, as it seemed less excruciating than meeting each other's eyes. They chuckled, quiet and shy when they eventually did look at each other though. Maybe the moment could be salvaged after all? But then Kyle noticed the obvious bulge still in his pants and froze up.

"I, um, should go..." he muttered, scrambling to get off the couch.

Eric suppressed a sigh.

"Okay, sure..." he replied, lightheaded and still reeling when he got up off the couch too. He followed Kyle to the door.

"Unless..." Kyle said, turning around. But he soon shook his head, as if the suggestion could fall out of his mind and drop to the floor, as if it had never existed. "No, forget it..."

"What?" Eric asked, stepping forward. "What were you gonna say?"

"I was just..." Kyle rolled his eyes, a shy smile on his face. "If you wanted to get away from your mom and her boyfriend, you could crash at my place?"

Eric blinked, prickling with hope.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but... that's weird, isn't it?" Kyle asked, face a little scrunched up as if the idea was indeed weird and icky.

"Maybe..." Eric whispered, nodding so perhaps he would believe it too. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Okay, well, see you later..."

"Yeah..."

Eric watched Kyle leave. One chance had slipped away, but he prayed there would be more.

* * *

Half an hour later, and Eric was lying wide awake in bed, trying to blot out the memory of his and Kyle's almost-kiss, the invitation he let go too easily, and the sounds of his mom and Richard fucking. He grumbled, turning over and grabbing his pillow, pressing it to his ear. He thought he couldn't be more pissed off with his mom after she ruined his moment with Kyle, but she was practically driving him out of the house with her gross, drunk moans and Richard's even more disgusting panting. How had his evening ended on such a sour, uncomfortable note? He was still clinging to the promise of another chance with Kyle, but that didn't placate his restless mind when he wanted Kyle _now_.

He smiled when he realised that his mom and Richard may have given him the perfect excuse to extend his evening with Kyle. After all, why wait on freak chances? He grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

"_hey you up?"_

Eric stared at the screen until that lonely little message started to piss him off. He placed it on his chest, staring up at the ceiling with his jaw pulled tight. He flinched when the phone vibrated.

"_yeah"_

Eric gnawed at his lip, the screen felt slippery beneath his thumbs as he typed his reply.

"_does your offer still stand? i need to get out of here."_

Eric didn't look away this time, watching Kyle type.

_"sure. I'll let you in."_

A grin spread across his face, and he threw back the covers, slipping a jacket over his shoulders, and sneakers on his feet.

His cheeks were aching as he walked the short distance to Kyle's house, hoping his smile would evaporate when Kyle opened the door. All the lights were off at the Broflovski residence, and Eric hoped Kyle hadn't forgotten about him and drifted back off to sleep. He shoved his hands into his pockets and shivered as he waited, the night air sharp and chilly. His chattering teeth were a good remedy to his grin. But they were no match for Kyle, all poofy-haired and wearing plaid pyjama bottoms.

"You look... non-threatening," Eric decided on.

Kyle gave him a tired, exasperated smirk.

"Come on, get in here," he replied. "It's freezing."

Eric brushed past him, and he headed on up the stairs. It had been a while since he had been in Kyle's room, invited or not. Kyle's lamp was switched on, illuminating the room that hadn't changed, much to Eric's delight. His anticipation for all that could evolve between them was tempered by a stinging, bittersweet nostalgia. He looked at the window he had climbed through countless times throughout his childhood, and remembered the crushing realisation he had a few years ago of being too tall to slip through silently now. The layout of Kyle's room was knowledge stuffed in the back of his mind, as was the memory of Kyle's sleeping face.

He still walked around the room like it was partially his, having no problem peeling off his jacket, kicking off his shoes and flopping down on the mattress.

"So I guess I'm sharing?" Kyle asked, arms folded across his chest as he approached his bed.

Eric sighed sweetly.

"It would appear so."

Kyle grumbled under his breath, and got into bed, pulling the covers up over his chest.

Eric grimaced at the narrow space. Kyle's bed was a double, but smaller than his and pushed up right against the wall. Not even Kyle's body heat could make up for the lack of space.

"Your bed is tiny..."

"My bed is fine! You just have to keep your big, stupid limbs to yourself."

"Is that fat-shaming, Kyle?"

"We can talk about this tomorrow..." Kyle replied, still trying to get himself comfortable. "Besides, if you don't like my bed you're more than welcome to go back to your own."

"I can't. My mom is fucking her boyfriend way too loud and if I have to hear one more second of her moaning and him panting and whining then I'll shoot myself."

Kyle snorted with laughter, looking up at the ceiling.

"That sucks..."

"Tell me about it..." he raked his gaze over Kyle. "Were you and Heidi ever loud?"

Kyle closed his eyes and sighed, but his smile hadn't wavered.

"No..."

The corners of Eric's mouth piqued upward, and a tooth grazed his lip again, gearing himself up some classic teasing.

"It was really that bad with her, huh?"

Kyle huffed, glaring at him.

"Sex doesn't have to be loud to be good! And the reason we kept the volume down is because we didn't want our parents to hear!"

"So if you were home alone she'd be like..." Eric closed his eyes and threw his head back, lifting his voice to a whiny, needy octave. _"Oh! Oh fuck, yeah!"_

He could feel Kyle freeze beside him, before he shoved his arm.

"Shut up!" he said, but Eric was still laughing.

He bit his lip again, and began to writhe.

"_Ohhh, your big, fat cock feels so good inside me!"_

"What do you think Heidi is, a porn star?!"

Eric chuckled, almost breaking character.

"_Mmm, Kyle, I want it har-"_

He was interrupted by a hand clamping his mouth. He opened his eyes and saw Kyle staring down at him, eyes wild and serious.

"Shut the fuck up!" he hissed.

Eric waited for Kyle to release him, and when he didn't he swiped his tongue across his palm. He was cackling when Kyle's hand flew away from his mouth, his horrified grimace was too funny.

"God, you're so gross!" Kyle exclaimed, before wiping his wet hand on Eric's shirt with his own wicked grin.

"What the fuck, man?!"

"Relax, it's your own saliva," Kyle replied, still mildly irritated. "It's fine."

Eric laughed, a soft hum under his breath, and the noise seemed to be enough to unwind all of Kyle's knotted, tense muscles, soothe his nerves that Eric never failed to get on. Kyle smiled, exasperated and sleepy still, but it didn't make Eric feel any less peaceful. He felt small pressure above his beating heart, and realised that Kyle's hand was still resting on his chest. Kyle's eyes must have followed Eric's like magnets, noticing too, and his smile vanished, but his hand still remained. Eric blinked, he didn't need to wonder why Kyle hadn't moved his hand. Honestly, he didn't care. This was an opportunity, and there was no fucking way he wasn't taking it.

Kyle's gaze was faraway, but still Eric leaned forward. He had just slipped his eyes shut, could feel Kyle's hot breath against his lips before he felt.. nothing, a lack.

"No..." Kyle murmured.

"Huh?" Eric asked, blinking his eyes open. "Kyle, what-"

"We're not doing that," Kyle cut in, sharp enough to tear through Eric's confused haze.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Kyle was done talking. His mouth was clamped shut, and he turned his back on Eric. His duvet hid his hunched, rigid shoulders.

Eric just stared, a wave of disappointment crashing over him and leaving him staring at Kyle, slack-jawed.

"I, I-I don't-"

"Just go to sleep, Cartman!" Kyle snapped.

Eric scowled, glowered at the back of Kyle's head like his stare emitted anger so powerful Kyle could sense it.

Without another word, he turned his back on Kyle, and scooched as far away as he could from him. His nose was practically touching the wall in Kyle's dumb, fucking tiny bed, and as he fumed with anger and embarrassment, he considered just leaving and going back home. But he didn't want to be alone right now, and when he felt like this, there was no other person he would rather be with. Even if he was the cause of all his fucking grief, even if they didn't want to talk to each other, even if Eric hated him a little.

He was starting to wonder if that was their problem all along.


	6. Chapter 6

Kyle hadn't slept much last night. He had tried, just like he was trying to stare up at the ceiling instead of the drooling, snoring Cartman beside him. But just like his gaze, it was hard to tear his thoughts away from him. No, they were jammed on memories of lingering touches, and personal space being recklessly demolished, and Cartman's humid, alluring voice that was familiar to Kyle but had never affected him... _this_ way... before. Sudden, prickly arousal followed by a hefty dose of pervasive shame, that kept Kyle up all night like the most terrible fever.

He had glanced at Cartman occasionally throughout the night, his mind's eye etching his shape in the darkness, his soft snores spoiling the quiet, curious, and furious, and resentful. So much of this was Cartman's fault, persuasive, and manipulative, and purposefully muddying the waters, blurring the lines between virtual and reality. Kyle thought he knew where Amber stopped, and Cartman began but he was rearranging the boundaries. Of course he was confused! But maybe it was inevitable, a risky proposition didn't become less complicated and messy by insistences they would keep it easy. Nothing was ever easy, Kyle thought, when it came to the two of them. They had never come too close without getting tangled up in each other.

Kyle sighed, eyes wandering to the ceiling once more. He felt the mattress shift beside him, Cartman stir and grumble before something heavy plopped onto his chest. Kyle froze when he realised Cartman had slung his arm over him.

"Dude..." Kyle whispered. "Cartman..."

Cartman was drifting further into sleep, oblivious.

Kyle moved Cartman's arm away from his chest, but trying to push his whole body further away from him was proving difficult.

"Cartman!" Kyle huffed.

He snuffled, making another groggy, grumbling sound. Kyle growled under his breath, and shoved his arm.

"Wake up!"

Cartman blinked his eyes open, brows furrowed with a sleepy scowl.

"What the fuck..." he mumbled, but when he noticed just how close they were he seemed to wake up instantly, shuffling away and averting his eyes. "Shit... sorry..."

"It's alright..." Kyle murmured, though their unease with each other in the cold light of day seemed anything but.

He sighed, antsy, and got out of bed, reaching for his hoodie hanging on the back of his desk chair.

"Where are you going?" Cartman asked, sitting up.

"To the bathroom, and then, downstairs, I guess... why, is there a problem?" Kyle snapped.

Cartman's scowl returned, hard and stinging.

"I don't know! Is there? You're the one acting like a freak-"

"_I'm_ acting like a freak? So you trying to kiss me last night isn't out of the fucking ordinary?"

"You wanted to kiss me too!"

The accusation made Kyle jolt, a dangerous, electric truth he didn't want to hear aloud.

"What?!"

"Last night, at my house! You wanted to kiss me too!"

In the aftermath of the jolt, Kyle felt like his skin was sizzling. He hated how they had been here before.

"W-w-well, what did you expect?! You were talking about the game, about Amber-"

"Yeah, and you admitted you were into her!" Cartman cut in. He paused, throwing back the covers and getting out of bed. He approached Kyle, slow, and calculating, but his stare was laser-focused on Kyle, and undeniably, excruciatingly earnest. "You said you were more into her than Heidi, that you thought about her, that sex with me is way better than-"

"_We_ don'thave sex."

No way would he let Cartman twist his words like that, _lie _like that.

"Yes we do!" Cartman cried. "It may not be our bodies, but it's our minds! We're making the decisions, we're choosing to do this every night! All those kisses, and touches, they came from me, Kyle!"

"So it's a game thing only when it suits you, right?" Kyle asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. "Compartmentalising this shit is fine until it stops you from getting what you want?"

"At least I can admit it, asshole!"

Kyle was seething, and he threw his arms up in frustration.

"I can't admit to something I don't fucking feel, Cartman!" he exclaimed. "I want Amber, that doesn't mean I..." he took a deep breath, and it felt like crushed glass in his lungs, because what he was about say may have been honest, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt. "That doesn't mean I want you..."

Kyle had lowered his head, and in the silence he looked at Cartman again. He had never seen him look like that. Jaw pulled tight, mouth clamped shut, a tiny crease in his brow and his gleaming eyes searching a spot to land on that wasn't Kyle. Emotions he would never let Kyle in on simmering beneath the surface, boiling until the shell would crack.

"Not in that way, at least," Kyle added. "I want you... to be my friend!" his voice couldn't help but strain with frustration. "I'm sorry I can't be more than that..."

Cartman blinked, pulled out of his devastated daze.

"Oh, thank you so much for letting me down gently, Kyle," he sneered. "I may have missed out on the wonderful opportunity of being your boyfriend, but at least I still get the pleasure of your company-"

"What the hell is wrong with you? I'm trying to be nice!"

"I don't want you to be nice!"

"Well, I can't fucking be anything else!" Kyle cried, panting, and out of options. "What, you actually wanna date me?!"

"No!" Cartman shouted. "I don't..." he looked at the carpet, his shoulders slouching. "I don't know..."

Kyle didn't say anything, as if the rope they were tangled up in was wrapping around his neck, robbing him of his breath and words. They had really outdone themselves this time. He looked at Cartman, just as speechless, and knew he couldn't count on him to cut them free. Kyle had to be the one to do it. He took a shaky breath, lowered his head.

"I'm not playing the game anymore..."

"What?"

"I'm not playing the game anymore," Kyle repeated, looking up. "Not if it's gonna make things weird between us."

Cartman blinked, and Kyle could see his face crumpling at the corners before he reset into uncaring, petulant asshole mode.

"Fine... " he said, brushing past Kyle and out the door.

Kyle followed immediately, still feeling that tug.

"Cartman!" he called, but he was already storming down the hallway.

Kyle watched him descend the stairs, helpless, and stubborn and not knowing what he could say or what the hell was even left to say. He frowned when the front door slammed, as if Cartman had any right to do that in his house. So focused was he on Cartman that he didn't hear Ike's door open, or footsteps behind him.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Kyle jumped at the sound of Ike's voice, turning to face his little brother.

"Nothing, Ike..." he sighed, shaking his head.

"Was that Cartman?" Ike asked, raising his eyebrows. "Were you and him..."

"No!" Kyle snapped, horrified and flushed. "God, no, we weren't doing anything..." he sighed again, eyes closed. "Listen, do you want my Universum?"

Ike blinked, eyes widening and head drooping like he'd misheard.

"Wh- seriously?"

Kyle nodded, still frowning.

"Yeah, you can have it. I... don't play it anymore..."

Ike grinned.

"Hell yeah, I do! Thanks, Kyle!"

He rushed back to his room, leaving Kyle stranded in the hallway.

* * *

It turned out that quitting the game altogether wouldn't be enough to stop things becoming weird between Kyle and Cartman. It had only been a day, and Kyle missed it being part of his routine. Sunday was a boring, restless day with nothing to look forward to. In fact, he only felt dread when Monday would reunite him and Cartman again. That evening, facing another sleepless night, he distracted himself with thoughts of Amber, and her unabashed moans, her soft skin, and hot, quivering thighs, palming at his boxers without jerking off because that would've been too real, an admission of some sort. He washed those thoughts down with the needling pangs of heartbreak, like going through a break-up all over again, and just like his recent break-up, he found himself resenting Cartman all over again. Why couldn't he have just followed the rules they set out? Why did he always have to be so demanding, pushy, greedy? Why did it always leave Kyle feeling like shit? Their whole routine was becoming old now, cyclical, with no end in sight. Problem was, Kyle didn't know if he could entertain the possibility of different. What would it even look like?

It was hard to imagine, when Kyle had a frosty reception from Cartman when Stan picked him up Monday morning. Kyle had sat, rigid and silent the entire journey, too chicken to even make eye-contact with Cartman, but his gaze, like his thoughts, continually drifted towards him in the rear view mirror.

Now, he was staring at him in the hallway, watching Cartman get his stuff out of his locker, with the same frown, and hard, distant face that forcibly shut out everything around him. Kyle was trying to gather the courage, and the patience to confront him again, because Cartman may have stormed out of his house the day before, literally slammed the door shut on the conversation, but like Kyle's invitation to kiss under the bleachers, some discomfort was required if they were ever going to get over this impasse.

Cartman shut his locker, and Kyle marched towards him, grabbing his arm before he could slip into class.

"Hey..."

Kyle felt Cartman stiffen in his grip, and he looked down at the fingers wrapped around his arm with alarm in his eyes. Flushing, Kyle soon released him.

"What do you want?"

Kyle huffed, rolled his eyes.

"Nothing!" he snapped, apparently no amount of staring could grant him more patience. "I just... you were quiet in the car-"

"So?"

"Well, are you okay?"

Cartman rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and they didn't return to look at Kyle.

"Yes! Why do you even care, Kyle?"

"Because maybe I feel bad!" Kyle admitted, out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Don't." Cartman said, voice hard and eyes boring into Kyle now. "There's nothing to feel bad about, I'm fine!"

When Kyle didn't immediately respond, Cartman rolled his eyes again, sighing like he was pained by this reconciliation turned stand-off. He tried to dodge it again, tried to slip into the classroom, but Kyle wouldn't let him.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, gripping his arm again.

Cartman flushed, flinching like Kyle's fingertips were electric.

"Get the fuck off me!" he yelled, ripping his arm away from Kyle.

Kyle closed his eyes, breathing slowly as if it could expel the humiliation from his body. He had wanted to reconcile with Cartman, but he wasn't about to pin him to the floor and demand he listen.

"Look, I'm sorry I don't feel the same way-"

"Yeah, you said all that yesterday," Cartman interrupted. "So don't flatter yourself by 'rejecting' me a second time when you don't even know what I want-"

"Well, I know what _I_ want." It was Kyle's turn to interject now, eyes open and voice taut. "I want things to be cool between us, for things to go back to the way they were-"

"So you're really gonna stop playing?"

Kyle sighed, and he looked to the floor before returning to Cartman's expectant face.

"I gave the Universum to Ike. It was the right thing to do, Cartman." Kyle knew he was saying the right thing, and he could feel his voice grow stronger and firmer, sure. "And I just feel like if we kept on playing then things would get messier, and maybe then things would get so weird that we'd stop hanging out. Do you really want that?"

"No..." Cartman mumbled.

Kyle chewed his lip, deliberating what he should say. But maybe it was best to say nothing, when they both knew he was right.

Cartman huffed, fidgeting with impatience and defeat.

"Are we done now?" he asked, pushing past Kyle to get to class.

Kyle didn't care, because at least they were heading in the direction of normal... 'their' normal. He followed him inside.

History was the only class they shared, and Kyle thought that was a testament to the potential Cartman had and how much of it was wasted. If he stopped ditching classes he deemed a waste of his time with Kenny, then God knows what he could accomplish. But Kyle was trying to pick his battles with Cartman, even if how much energy he should invest in him was still hard to gauge, often he wondered why he cared at all.

The class was still filing in, and waiting for their teacher to arrive. Butters was sat in his usual desk, waving them over.

"Hey, fellas!"

"Hey, Butters..." Cartman mumbled, flopping down into the desk beside him.

Kyle smiled tightly at him and took the desk on the other side.

"Did you guys have a fun weekend?" Butters asked.

Kyle's stomach clenched at the innocent question, and Cartman was staring at him like he was afraid Kyle was actually going to admit to their tense, bizarre weekend.

Cartman coughed, cleared his throat.

"It was nothing special..."

"Yep, same here." Butters nodded, oblivious. "I didn't feel like doing stuff anyways, after my dad walked out Friday night."

Cartman was staring at Kyle again, bewildered, and Kyle supposed it felt oddly nice for that emotional response to not be tied to either of them, and mutual.

"What?"

"Butters, your dad left your mom?" Kyle asked, resting his hand on the back of Butters' chair.

Butters sighed, matter-of-fact.

"Yeah... they've been fighting for a while, and apparently my dad's been carryin' on with this guy named David. He lives in Denver, that's where my dad went on Friday."

Kyle glanced at Cartman, and saw that his brow was furrowed.

"Shit, Butters, are you okay?"

Kyle didn't want Butters to have a breakdown in the middle of class, but he had a feeling Butters wasn't processing this in a healthy way.

"Yeah, I s'pose. It's a bit strange, but I'm gonna see him again soon. I'm just worried about my mom, she's all spacey and I've caught her crying a couple times..."

He frowned, a tiny crease in his brow. He looked down at his desk, and Kyle figured that was probably all they were going to get for now. Cartman reclined in his chair again, exhaling slowly.

"Well... Butters, you know we're here if you ever need to talk, right?" Kyle asked.

Butters nodded, beaming up at his friends.

"Yeah, I do." He glanced between the two of them. "Thanks a lot, fellas."

* * *

It wouldn't be the last time that day Kyle would hear about Butters' dramatic home life. It was also a conversation at dinner with his family later that evening, as his mom had spent most of her day comforting a very fragile Linda Stotch. Kyle had nodded along, answered his mom's questions regarding Butters' coping with the whole situation as best he could, while his dad piped up here and there but was unsurprisingly quiet when his mom was talking disbelievingly about some people's ability to lead double lives. Kyle couldn't judge his dad too harshly, although he had in the past. After all, he had tasted for himself the allure of immersing yourself in a virtual world, a virtual persona, where opportunity is easier to grasp than consequence. He tried to justify it by telling himself that at least what he and Cartman did had never hurt anybody, but he remembered his rejection of Cartman and wondered whether that was true.

"Did everybody enjoy?" his mom asked, as she cleared their empty plates away.

There was a inharmonious chorus of 'yes' beneath the clinking china and cutlery.

"It was delicious, honey," Kyle's dad replied. He stood up, and clapped his hands together. "Right, well, I think I'm gonna finish off those case reports. Don't wait up for me."

Kyle rolled his eyes, careful to hide it from his mom.

"Alright, so who's helping me with the dishes tonight?" she asked.

Kyle grinned at Ike across the table.

"I think Ike would love to."

"What?!"

"I'll let you figure it out amongst yourselves." Their mom chuckled, taking the plates into the kitchen.

"What the hell, Kyle?"

"Dude, I gave you my Universum yesterday, I think you can return the favour by doing some dishes..."

Ike folded his arms.

"If you wanted money for it, I would've bought it off you-"

"Yeah, except I know you have no money," Kyle cut in, folding his arms too. "This only seems fair, Ike. "

Ike opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by their mom calling him.

"Ike! Are you helping me in here?"

Kyle raised his eyebrows, smug smirk never wavering.

Ike scowled, and rose from his chair with a huff.

"Fine..."

Kyle watched him trudge to the kitchen, and chuckled under his breath. He couldn't help but feel a little mean though, what did he have to look forward to this evening now that he had given the game up? He sighed, pushed the thought to the back of his mind and rose from his chair.

Leaving the dining room, he heard his mom's phone ring in the kitchen.

"Oh, Linda, how are you, hon?"

He zoned out of the conversation, and headed for the stairs.

"That's a wonderful idea! I'm sure Kyle doesn't have any plans!"

Kyle was midway up the stairs, and he froze when his name was mentioned.

"Just hold on, and I'll check!"

He was silent as he contemplated what plans Butters' mom would want to make that involved him.

"Kyle!" his mom called out, shrill as she entered the living room, making Kyle jump.

"I'm here, ma..."

"Oh, sorry, bubbe!" she said, moving to the bottom of the stairs. "You don't have any plans this Saturday, do you?"

Kyle's eyebrows drew together, his apprehension rising.

"No... why?"

"Well, I'm on the phone to Linda right now. Butters is having a difficult time with his father leaving, you know, and she thought it would be a good idea for all you boys to spend the night there Saturday! You know, keep him company, and cheer him up!" Her convincing grin wilted at the corners, and her eyebrows twitched. "You'll go, won't you?"

"Wuh-well... I mean... sure, if it would make Butters feel better."

His mom beamed up at him, her face almost creased with pride.

"Thank you, bubbe." She lifted her phone to her ear again. "Linda? I just spoke to Kyle, and he's very much looking forward to Saturday!"

Kyle made his way up the stairs, slow and dazed from that bizarre interaction. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he saw that Cartman had created a group chat that consisted of himself, Stan, and Kenny simply named '_wtf?'_

_Cartman:_ _have u guys just had a phone call from butters mom? _

_Stan:_ _yeah, i guess butters dad is gay now?_

_Cartman:_ _he was always gay dumbass where the hell have u been?_

_Kenny:_ _guys it's cool butters just doesn't wanna be alone right now_

_Cartman:_ _yeah but a sleepover? we're not fucking chicks_

_Stan:_ _i'm cool with staying over his house but why is his mom calling our moms? weird_

_Cartman:_ _this whole thing is fucked_

_Kenny:_ _well i'm going_

_Stan:_ _me too like i said i don't care about staying there. are u going kyle?_

Kyle thought about what he promised Butters that morning, that they would all be there for him if he needed it, and he had already told his mom he would go.

He replied: _my mom didn't give me much of a choice. _

_Cartman:_ _what a bitch_

Kyle rolled his eyes at Cartman's response, but appreciated the predictability of it. Before he could reply, Kenny beat him to it.

_Kenny: are u going cartman?_

_Cartman: yeah i guess if you guys are_

Kyle sighed, not knowing what response he was expecting from Cartman. However 'fucked' he thought this arrangement was, there was no way he would miss out on it. Still, Kyle tried to brace himself for another Saturday night spent with Cartman.

* * *

**A/N:** _Thank you for reading, guys! I hope you enjoyed and I'd love to know your thoughts!_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** _Sorry for the delay, work has been kicking my ass at the moment. But I hope you enjoy, and I'd love to know your thoughts! Thank you for reading!_

* * *

The day of the sleepover had arrived, and while Butters had been chatting about it all week, it was hardly mentioned when he wasn't around. It was like some unspoken rule was understood between the other guys, that this was all about appeasing Butters. There was no point expressing an opinion, when it didn't really matter, when it couldn't be argued that they were doing the right thing. That's all Kyle was concerned about, getting through the evening and knowing it would all be worth it if it made Butters feel better.

"What's in the bag?" Kyle asked Stan. He had just knocked Butters' front door and they were stood waiting in the early evening chill.

"A toothbrush, some movies..." Stan asked, hitching up the backpack on his shoulder. He sighed. "I don't know, dude, I had no fucking clue what to bring. It's been a while since I've been to a slumber party."

"Maybe we shouldn't think of it as a slumber party? You know, it's not like we don't hang out like this all the time. We're just being there for Butters."

"Right..." Stan nodded, shoulders straightening a little. "You're right, I mean, this isn't about us. It'll be fine."

The front door was opened, revealing Butters' beaming face.

"Hey, fellas!"

Stan smiled.

"Hey, Butters."

"Come in!" he grinned, standing aside and letting Stan and Kyle pass. "I'm glad you could make it, I've got so much fun stuff planned! Movies, and board games-"

"Oh, man, if I'd known I would've brought one of my board games-"

"It's alright, Stan, we've got plenty! Operation, and Monopoly, and Twister!"

Stan nodded, corners of his mouth turning downwards a little.

"Cool..."

"What did you bring?" Butters asked, stepping forward and his eyes gleamed as they studied Stan's backpack, like he was hoarding treasure.

"Oh, um, a couple Marvel movies?"

"That's great! I bought a big bag of popcorn, and we'll have brownies and the s'mores too! We'd better start baking those now, actually..."

"Great." Kyle nodded, he would take the opportunity to reinforce his positive attitude whenever he could. "Um, where should we put our stuff?"

"Just leave it on the couch for now, fellas. We're gonna be sleeping down here tonight, anyway. My room isn't big enough for all of us!" Butters replied with a chuckle, practically bouncing to the kitchen.

Kyle and Stan exchanged wary, smirking looks before they followed Butters into the kitchen. His mom was there, setting out the necessary kitchen utensils.

"Oh, hello, boys!" she smiled, and it was just as wobbly as her hands as she organised everything. Kyle wondered if she had eaten a lot in the past week.

"Hi, Mrs Stotch..." Stan replied for them.

"I've set everything up for you, so I won't be in your way." She chuckled, a rattling sound like a china cabinet in an earthquake. "You just let me know if you need a hand with anything!"

"Thanks, mom!" Butters replied, watching her leave the room. He hands were placed under her chin, like she was praying.

"So... where do we start, dude?" Kyle asked, approaching Butters' kitchen table that had transformed into a mini bakery. "I've never baked before."

"Oh, it's real easy! Especially the s'mores."

"Then I'll guess I'll be in charge of those."

"Great!" Butters replied with a single clap. "That leaves the brownies to me and you, Stan!"

* * *

Kyle may have sold himself short with the s'mores, as they were ready in about ten minutes, dripping with chocolate and sweet-smelling. Stan and Butters were still waiting for their brownie mixture to cool, and they snacked while they waited.

"Cartman and Kenny are gonna be pissed if we eat all of these..." Stan commented, but stil picked up another one and took a bite.

Kyle shrugged.

"We'll just make more. You've got more marshmallows, right, Butters?"

"Sure have!" Butters said, licking some chocolate off his fingers. "These are really great, Kyle!"

Kyle couldn't help but smile, when Butters' eyes gleaming with gratitude hinted that maybe it wasn't just the s'mores he was excited about, but hanging out with his friends, doing something he genuinely enjoyed. He felt a little bad for his scepticism, his vow to grin and bear it when it was easy to smile in Butters' kitchen.

There was a loud, demanding knock on the door, one that Kyle remembered when he had stumbled out of bed half-asleep just a week earlier.

"That must be them!" Butters smiled, and he rolled his eyes good-naturedly when they knocked a second time. "Hold on, fellas!"

Butters rushed into the living room, while Kyle's feet felt as though they were stuck to the floor, weighted by dread. His s'mores tasted a little sickly sweet in his now dry mouth.

Everything was surface level fine between him and Cartman now, just like the apprehension surrounding the slumber party, Kyle felt as though he were just appeasing everybody's exceptions, automatically bickering with Cartman as usual even when his heart wasn't in it. His heart felt faraway at the moment, aimless and not knowing that it wanted. He thought he wanted the status quo, and normalcy, and was frustrated at how hollow it actually was. Maybe the damage was irreversible now, still the thought of what remained made him just as restless as those long nights without the game.

"I could get used to this slumber party thing..." Stan said, still enjoying the s'mores. "It's pretty fun, like being kids again or something."

Kyle hummed under his breath, lips pressed together in a small, thoughtful smile.

"Cartman's mom made the best s'mores," he replied, trains of thought getting crossed. "Remember she'd make them just so we could take them camping with us and cook them over the fire?"

Stan chuckled, and nodded.

"Yeah, that was the best... cooking hotdogs over the fire was the worst though. Remember when Cartman got sick-"

"Yeah, and it was fucking gross."

"What was gross?"

Kyle's whole body flared at the sound of Cartman's voice, and when their eyes met he noticed Cartman was waiting patiently for his answer, cool and almost uninterested.

"You getting diarrhoea from uncooked hotdogs," Kyle replied. Despite the growing dullness, it was times like these he was thankful for how much their rhythm was ingrained into them, making it easier even when things were still in the realm of weird.

Cartman wrinkled his nose and shook his head, the memory not coming to him.

"I don't remember that."

He put a s'more in his mouth and made a tiny noise of approval as he chewed.

"Who made these?" he asked, mouth still full and not bothering to cover it.

"Kyle did," Stan replied.

Cartman nodded, swallowing and returning his attention to Kyle.

"They're good..."

Kyle extinguished the flattery flickering in his chest, and withheld his thanks.

"Where have you guys been, anyway?"

"We got held up at Kenny's."

Stan frowned.

"What, why?"

"Because we brought a little treat of our own!" Kenny grinned, pulling a little baggy of white powder out of his jeans pocket.

When it came to reading the room, Kyle considered that everyone was lost in fucking translation when Cartman and Kenny were giggling like middle-schoolers and he and Stan were speechless with horror.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Stan whispered, voice at an alarmed octave.

"Is that coke?"

"No, it's MDMA," Kenny replied, irritated and maybe a little bummed. "I got it from my brother."

"Why the hell did you bring that here?"

Kenny shrugged, glancing at the baggy he was waving absent-mindedly between his fingers.

"We thought it would be fun."

"How?" Kyle asked, arms folded across his chest. "It's the five of us, and Butters' mom."

"Yeah, and this will liven things up a bit, don't you think?" Cartman replied, laughter in his voice, and his grin goading.

Tonight may have been all about Butters, but Kyle knew that obnoxious, taunting grin was all for him.

"How the hell are we even gonna take it?" Stan asked. "Butters won't go for it."

Cartman glanced between Stan and the baggy.

"Easy," he replied, plucking it from Kenny's grasp and tipping the glimmering, white contents into the brownie mixture.

"Dude!" Stan cried, as Cartman stirred the mixture until its new, special ingredient was indiscernible.

Kyle's teeth were gritted, his mouth drawn into a tight, thin line, and he felt like a bottle shaking with effervescent, frothing anger. And like taking a swig of the richest champagne it made him feel sick, and giddy, intoxicating and infuriating after a week of shallow irritation.

"There!" Cartman grinned. "Problem solved."

Kenny sighed, staring at the ruined brownie mixture.

"Well, at least it's a party now..."

"Cartman, can I talk to you?" Kyle asked, each word taut.

"Sure..." Cartman replied, hands tucked in his pockets as he followed Kyle outside, the only place they could talk in private.

Kyle didn't realise just how much his face was burning until the cold air stung his cheeks.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked, teeth gritted and voice hushed.

"Not to brag, but some very quick-thinking on my part."

"You do realise you basically just drugged Butters - and possibly his mom?"

"Dude, Kyle, will you lighten up? It's not like I put fucking roofies in there! Besides, it wasn't even that much!"

Kyle sighed, rubbing his brow as if to soothe the impending migraine.

"I don't care about the fucking technicalities, Cartman! I care about the fact that Butters is gonna unknowingly ingest MDMA!"

"Have you considered it might make him feel better? Take the edge off, put him in a good mood? Given his present circumstances, that may not be such a bad thing."

Kyle opened his eyes, glaring at Cartman and his arrogant smirk that was always so hard to wipe off.

"If anything happens to him, that's on you."

"Sure, but nothing bad _is_ gonna happen so..."

Kyle rolled his eyes, and pushed past him.

"Whatever. This is your fucking mess."

"Yeah, it is," Cartman snapped. Kyle had found the sharp edge to his cool, cocky mask, and he glared at him once more over his shoulder. Cartman was scowling at him. "So maybe you should mind your own business."

Back in the kitchen, Butters had returned from wherever he had wandered off to - probably to get some board games from his room, some pillows from a linen cupboard, and Kyle couldn't help but wince at oblivious Butters, still believing this night was going to be perfect. He was getting on with the brownie making, while Stan and Kenny stood there, cringing.

"Hey, what were you guys doing out there?"

Kyle bristled at the question, mind searching for an answer, but Cartman beat him to it.

"Nothing, Kyle just wanted some fresh air."

Butters frowned.

"Oh gosh, are you okay, Kyle?"

Kyle nodded, but glared at Cartman again.

"I'm fine..."

"You wanna help with the brownies, Eric?"

"I'd love to..." Cartman smiled, joining Butters' side, seemingly revelling in the discomfort.

* * *

Waiting for their brownies to bake, it was easy for Kyle to shut away any thoughts of dread, and panic, like he had just left them in an oven, to burn until they were charred, ruined nothings that had to be discarded. But he knew it didn't work like that, his brain didn't work like that. Those brownies would be eaten, the consequences of Cartman's stupid, selfish action would be realised and Kyle was the one left fretting about it. Why was it that when Cartman did something reckless, or impulsive he was the surrogate for all the emotional baggage, the remorseful residue? It made Kyle wonder why he had so craved the status quo, when being Cartman's conscience was becoming quite the chore.

Still, he was enjoying the meantime while he could, sat around Butters' dining table and playing cards with his friends.

"Rummy!" Cartman announced.

Grumblings broke out around the table.

"Shit..." Kenny sighed, reclining in his chair as he placed his cards on the table.

"Yep, read it and weep."

Cartman placed his cards on the table too, but in a far more elaborate fashion. All the cards he had hoarded and withheld from his friends were fanned out, a neat, taunting display.

"You had the Jack of Diamonds?!" Kyle exclaimed. "That was the one card I needed!"

His losing hand was soon forgotten when a foreboding cookie timer went off in the kitchen. The reverberating noise sent a shiver down Kyle's spine.

"Butters!" Mrs Stotch called. "Your brownies are done!"

"Do you need a hand, mom?"

"I've got it, sweetie! Oh, they look delicious!"

All those panicked thoughts were set loose in Kyle's mind now, his entire body, even. They tunnelled through every nerve, and clutched his lungs and his guts. He glanced at Cartman, warning him and accusing him, but Cartman, as always, was unaffected.

The warm, sweet smell of chocolate drifted into the room as Mrs Stotch entered, holding the tray of brownies.

"Here you go, boys. Hot from the oven!" She smiled. "Who'd like some?"

"I'd love one, Mrs Stotch," Cartman replied, in that saccharin voice Kyle had heard him use around parents so many times, taking a brownie from the tray.

"Yeah, me too," Kenny added, taking a brownie too.

"Stanley?"

"Oh, uh..." Stan glanced around the table, saw that Kyle was the only sort-of dissenting figure. "Sure, I guess. Thank you."

"Mind if I have one, mom?" Butters asked, but had already helped himself.

"How about you, Kyle?"

"Huh?" Kyle replied, like he was surprised he was even asked.

"Would you like one?"

"Oh..." Kyle looked around the table, and was unsure if he could pretend that everything was fine and normal. "I don't know... maybe later, thanks."

"Do you need some fresh air, Kyle?" Butters asked with a concerned frown.

"No, no, I just..." Kyle paused, grasping for an excuse. "I'm still full from the s'mores, you know?"

Cartman huffed, incredulous.

"Kyle, Butters and I slaved over those brownies-"

"Hey, I helped too!"

Cartman tutted.

"You melted chocolate, Stan, so what?" After he was done glaring at Stan, he returned his attention to Kyle. "The least you can do is try one-"

"They're really good, Kyle!" Butters chimed in.

Kyle crossed his arms, glaring at Cartman because he could see the manipulative machinations of his mind, could see that he was going to get Kyle to cave by making him out to be a dick for declining a brownie.

"You scared, Kyle?"

A typical Cartman challenge, one Kyle had yielded to before and would probably do so again. Before he could open his mouth to retort, Butters laughed, still obvious.

"Scared of brownies?!" he was still chuckling at the ridiculous suggestion, and Cartman was still staring at Kyle, smug, and smirking, and waiting for his next move.

"Fine..." Kyle muttered, grabbing a brownie off the tray.

He took a bite and immediately regretted it. The brownie tasted good, delicious in fact, but for all his disdain of Cartman's impulse, it moved Kyle more than he would care to admit. It prompted him to act rashly, emotion overriding every decision he made in its wake. He realised that while he spent a lot of time thinking about Cartman - even when he didn't want to - when they were around each other he didn't do a lot of thinking at all. Cartman watched him eat the brownie, menacing and victorious, and Kyle swallowed down his last bite with a gulp.

"Mmm, they're delicious, boys!" Mrs Stotch said, with a mouthful of brownie.

Kyle's shoulders slouched and he smothered a sigh.

"I'll leave you boys alone. I'll just take a couple into your father's..." she stopped, blinking a couple times like she was reminding herself of the events of the past week. "Th-the study with me..."

She scurried away, leaving the boys in the living room. The silence felt heavy to Kyle, but probably because he was the only one who was still finding this uncomfortable.

"So... what do you guys wanna do now?" Kenny asked.

"We could play a board game?" Stan suggested.

Butters gasped, eyes flashing as he had a brainwave.

"I know!"

Half an hour later, Kenny and Butters were tangled up on a Twister mat as the game drew to a close, with Cartman in charge of the spinner.

"Right foot red..."

Both Kenny and Butters tried to stretch their legs and shift their feet onto any vacant red spot, but Kenny was the one to slip with a huff. Butters soon collapsed beside him, clutching his belly as he laughed. Kyle watched, nervous but impatient for any sort of buzz. He wanted to reject it, but his body felt prickly and wired, static as he lounged on Butters' couch and waited for the sensations to come to him. It's not as if he could ask his friends if they were feeling anything without giving it away to Butters. Everything felt on the edge of normal.

"Alright, Butters," Kenny said, pulling himself up off the mat. "Since you're the winner - and it's your party - who do you pick to play next?"

Butters face scrunched up as he considered his choice, eyes scanning the living room.

"Eric, and... Kyle!"

Kyle froze, and was surprised to see Cartman looking just as speechless, and with a rising blush crawling up his throat. Kyle swallowed, trying to find his words while his fingers flexed for the cushions behind him.

"Oh, um... Butters, I don't know..."

Butters stood up, cocking his head as he looked at him,

"Are you sure you're alright, Kyle? You've been acting funny all night."

Kyle exhaled, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just-"

"Butters, there's two things you need to know about Kyle," Cartman cut in, leaning forward in his chair and any discomfort disappearing. "One, he's boring. Two, he hates losing, which he definitely would if we played Twister."

Kenny scoffed so Kyle didn't have to.

"What?!" Kyle replied. "You wouldn't last one minute, asshole!"

Cartman smirked, leaning closer to him.

"Then prove it."

Kyle scowled, stubborn and stare unwavering.

"Give Butters the spinner."

"Yay!" Butters grinned, getting up off the mat and retrieving the spinner from Cartman.

Kyle stood up and his head rushed with it, like he had just been unceremoniously dropped into the room. He considered that perhaps the brownies were kicking in, and of course it was his fucking luck that they were about to kick in as he was starting a game of Twister with Eric Cartman.

He stood at one of the mat, placing his feet on the yellow and blue circles and Cartman did the same.

"Alright, ready?" Butters asked.

"Yep..." Cartman replied, still grinning at Kyle.

"Okay... left hand yellow!"

Kyle crouched down, crossing his left arm over his body so his hand could rest on a yellow circle, and watched as Cartman crouched down to rest his hand on the circle in front of him.

* * *

As the game went on, Kyle tried to concentrate as the colours on the mat became more vivid, transforming into vibrant pools of colour he wanted to dip his fingers into... that is, if he wasn't wanting to dance to the music that wasn't to his usual taste but sounded amazing right now. But he couldn't dance, because he had a game to win and he thought his victory was inevitable but Cartman still hadn't slipped up or fallen, and he was so close to him... really close to him. His thigh was in between Kyle's leg, and his breath was on his neck, and Kyle could feel how warm his body was, and he smelt like cheap cologne, and brownies, never smelling better. Kyle felt hot from the effort, and a little nauseous, and he didn't know if it was the Molly, or the game, or Cartman's proximity to him that was waking up these butterflies in his stomach, but he let his eyes drift shut.

"You okay there?"

"Huh?" Kyle asked, blinking his eyes open.

Cartman snickered, humid and soft and his tooth grazed his lip.

"Your eyes were closed... like you were concentrating..."

"Why would I need to concentrate? This is easy. You're the one who's shaking..."

Kyle couldn't help but smile as he said it. He never thought he'd enjoy Cartman trembling underneath him so much, but he did. Just like he enjoyed his smile, and his soft, warm tone, and his increasingly flushed face.

"I could stay like this all night..." he bragged.

"Me too..."

"Really?" he teased. "What if I do this?"

Cartman leaned forward as much as he could and started to blow air onto Kyle's neck. His skin was now prickly with goosebumps under Cartman's hot breath, and he let his eyes drift shut once again.

"Dude!" he laughed. "Cartman, quit it..."

Cartman was laughing too, Kyle could sense the tremors in his body, and feel the vibrations against his skin.

"What the fuck is Butters doing?" he asked.

Kyle opened his eyes and glanced at Butters, who was flicking the spinner around and around and not bothering to call out any directions, just staring at it dumbly.

"Butters, call something out already!"

"He's fucked..." Kenny commented, spread out on the couch with his head lolled back.

"Huh?" Butters replied, pulled out of his daze.

"We're waiting for you to call something out, Butters!"

"Oh, right! Sorry, fellas!" he chuckled, but frowned as he flicked the spinner again. "Uh... left hand green..."

Kyle's tongue prodded at his lip as he concentrated, but he jolted when his fingertips brushed against Cartman's as he tried to move his hand. He yelped as he collapsed on top of him, both of them landing with huffs that rose into giddy, uncontrollable laughter. Kyle's face was buried into Cartman's shoulder, and he was resting his cheek on his hair, but unlike the last time they were pressed so close together, Kyle didn't care, not even when his crotch was now pressed right up against Cartman's hip. Nothing inside him was screaming this was wrong. Kyle only pulled back to look at Cartman's face. His eyes were dark, his pupils yawning, and his wide, unabashed grin was adorable. Chuckles were pouring out of Kyle's mouth.

"Shit, Cartman, won?" Stan asked.

"You're damn right I did!" Cartman turned his head to exclaim other Kyle's shoulder. But he soon found Kyle again, eyes lidded. "Told you, asshole..."

Just like everything else, Kyle didn't care that he lost.

"Good game..." he instead murmured.

"Fellas, do any of you feel a little funny?"

"Nope..." Kenny replied.

"I'm having a great time..." Cartman added, raking his gaze over Kyle.

"I don't know, maybe there's something wrong with the brownies?" Butters asked, panic needling his voice.

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with the brownies, Butters, believe me..."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean, Ken?"

Cartman grumbled, impatient, and fidgeted beneath Kyle.

"It means we put Molly in the brownies, dumbass!"

Kyle's eyes widened and he clamped a hand over Cartman's mouth again, the action felt as instinctive to him as breathing at this point.

"Shhh!"

"What?!"

Cartman's cheeks swelled against Kyle's palm, and he licked his hand again. It was only then that Kyle recoiled.

"Will you stop that?!"

Cartman was laughing, and Kyle found it pretty funny too, falling on his ass.

"You guys put drugs in the brownies?!" Butters cried, mouth agape and face drained of colour.

"Don't look at me, dude, it was all Cartman's fault!" Stan replied, raising his hands in defence.

"Hey! Don't fucking rat me out, you piece of shit!"

"What the hell were you thinking, Eric?" Butters asked, getting up off the couch. "My mom ate those brownies!"

"Butters, dude, relax, she's probably fine!"

"Probably?!"

It was then Mrs Stotch stumbled into the room.

"Mom!" Butters shouted, hurrying over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Mom, are you okay?"

"I'm great!" she replied, throwing her arms up in the air, blinking and squinting like the room was still coming into focus for her. "Wonderful, sweetie! Those brownies are the best I've ever eaten! And this music..." She closed her eyes and started to sway.

"Mom..." Butters said, lip wobbling like his voice.

She wasn't listening, throwing her head back, tossing her hair around and dancing like she was in Burning Man rather than stood in the middle of her living room. The boys watched, amused but unsure what the fuck was going on. Cartman was laughing hard behind his hand, and Kyle was struggling to keep his own laughter contained behind his pursed lips.

"This music is incredible... it just makes me wanna-" she threw her arms about again, dragging her hands down her chest and moving her hips in a figure-eight. "Don't you boys feel it too? Why aren't you dancing?" She turned to Butters and grinned, reaching for his hands. "Come on, sweetie, dance with me!"

"No!" Butters shouted, looking between his friends, clueless and with nostrils flaring.

"Fine! Kenny, come dance with me!"

Kenny looked between the guys too, wondering if he should consider accepting this invitation to dance. He nodded, laughing.

"Sure... why not?"

The rest of the guys felt more comfortable laughing as they watched Kenny try to copy Mrs Stotch's dance moves. When she reached out to grab Kenny's hands, he held them and twirled her around. She almost fell on top of him, clutching his shirt to keep her balance as she laughed.

"Come on, boys!"

She showed them the moves as if she were teaching them complex choreography, and Kyle felt as though they were all on the same wavelength for the first time tonight, sharing one, single thought of 'fuck it.' He and Cartman lifted themselves up from the mat, and started copying her.

"That's it! Oh, doesn't it make you feel so free?"

Kenny nodded, chuckling.

"I'm definitely feeling something..."

Kyle cackled, head thrown back. His limbs felt elastic, and his body didn't feel entirely his own, but he wasn't unnerved by that. Just like in the game he felt flushed of anything that was heavy, and unnecessary, and nothing was weighing him down. All his worries, and cares, and insecurities were ejected from his body, and even if he knew had to collect them all when he came down, at least he could be free of them for a couple of hours, at least he was free to do whatever he wanted, feel, and think about, and look at _whoever_ he wanted. He opened his eyes and saw that Cartman was really hamming up his dance moves, channelling the hippies he had so ruthlessly mocked all his life and Kyle snorted with laughter. The noise drew Cartman to him, smiling at him like he was glad he could make Kyle laugh like that. Kyle wanted to laugh at him like that more often.

He heard the sound of feet stomping up the stairs, and saw Butters disappearing when he reached the top step. Kyle stopped dancing, his conscience pulling him towards perhaps investigating why Butters was so upset, talking to him, and apologising to him.

"Hey..."

Cartman's hand was at his waist, and Kyle felt like his body was charged by that one bold, gentle touch alone. He smiled again, broad and weightless, and when he turned to look at Cartman, he was tugged closer and twirled around. He was breathless, and dizzy, grasping Cartman's hand, eager to do the same to him. Cartman was clumsier than even he was, stumbling into him and Kyle tried his best to hold Cartman up, all wide smiles, and warm touches, and laughter just between them. Their eyes met, reflecting each other and brimming with bright, scintillating serenity.

"Hey, Mrs Stotch, can we invite some more people over?" Kenny asked.

"Of course!" She smiled. "The more, the merrier!"

* * *

Contrary to current circumstances, Eric wasn't much into drugs. A little part of him still believed that taking drugs automatically made you a hippie, and hippies would always suck. But he was willing to make some concessions if a little bit of powder discreetly baked into a brownie was enough to keep Kyle by his side all night, more alluring and entertaining than ever. The music was louder, and the house was crowded, and there were plenty of intoxicated spectacles to gawk and laugh at but Eric was more than content to stay huddled in the corner of the living room with Kyle, the volume forcing them closer together, lips close to brushing against jaws so they could hear each other talk, laughter ringing in their ears. Eric felt dizzy with the effort of refraining from tilting his head and letting their mouths meet. But one thing he couldn't resist was teasing Kyle about Twister.

"So Kyle, not only do you have no rhythm but no flexibility either, interesting..."

"Dude, quit bragging about that game as if it was at all fair! I was under the influence-"

"Yeah, well, so was I!"

Kyle pulled back, smile wry and eyebrow arched. He leaned in again.

"Then I guess we'll have to have a rematch, huh?"

"Name a time and place and I'll be there, dick!"

Kyle chuckled, and the noise drew a smile from Eric. But then it was ruined by a sheepish Clyde and an annoyed Craig approaching them.

"Hey guys..."

Eric huffed.

"What, Clyde?"

"Butters' mom has passed out on the couch."

"And?" Eric asked with a shrug. "Why is that our problem?"

"I don't know!" Craig snapped. "Because you guys asked us to come here, and if Butters is gone then it is kinda your problem."

Kyle nodded.

"Fine," he replied, giving Eric a nudge. "Come on..."

He followed Kyle over to the couch, weaving through floppy, drunken bodies and stepping over the trampled Twister mat. Tweek, Token, and Nichole were hovering over Mrs Stotch, standing there awkwardly, but still peering at her with concern. Her arms were thrown above her head, and her cheek was smushed against her shoulder, as if she had exhausted herself with her uninhibited dancing and just crashed onto the couch.

"Fuck, is she okay?!" Tweek asked.

"Yeah, she'll be fine!" Eric snapped, though took some relief in noticing the faint rise and fall of her chest.

"Cartman, give me a hand?"

Kyle was already preparing to lift her, and Cartman nodded. He grabbed her ankles and lifted them up, while Kyle had hold of her arms. She didn't even stir as they lifted her off the couch, her body swayed like a hammock on a breezy day as they tried to manoeuvre through the crowd in the living room. They deflected people's confused glances, and nudged and elbowed anyone who stumbled dangerously close. Eric thought they had this down until they reached the stairs.

"What now?"

Kyle looked over his shoulder at their newest obstacle, teeth grazing his lip in thought.

"Okay, put her down..."

Eric lowered her to the floor, and watched as Kyle crouched down, hooked his arms underneath her and lifted, carrying her bridal style. He blinked, and smiled when Kyle's back was turned, following him up the stairs wordlessly, wondering if Kyle had ever carried Heidi like that, as a joke thing, or a comfort thing, or a passionate thing. He soured when he thought of the latter.

"You're still here?" Kyle asked over his shoulder.

Eric didn't feel embarrassed, he only laughed.

"Yeah, you needed a hand..."

Kyle rolled his eyes, smiling too and let Eric follow him up the stairs.

The quiet, empty hallway was a disorientating place to be, and the floor vibrated as the bass thumped below their feet.

Before Kyle could even ask, Eric reached out behind him and opened Mrs Stotch's bedroom.

"Get the light for me..."

Eric found the lightswitch, and watched from the doorway as Kyle placed Mrs Stotch down on her bed, the only time she stirred. Kyle moved away from the bed, but still kept an eye on her. He stood in the doorway with Eric, leaning against it as they both watched her sleep. Eric wondered what Kyle was thinking about, when all he could think about was how he didn't want this strange, peaceful moment to end, like finding a comfortable spot in bed and not wanting to move, to disturb the bliss. He sighed, and titled his head.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?"

Kyle laughed, tried to muffle it with the back of his hand. He gave Eric a shove, and Eric switched off the light and closed the door before they left.

Although there was a party downstairs, they strolled down the hallway as if oblivious to it, as if they were trying to buy some more of that elusive, strangely peaceful time together.

"I did kinda feel like we were in a parallel universe for a second..." Eric admitted. "One where we were parents or something..."

"A universe where the both of us - and our kid - were wasted?"

"I didn't say it was an _ideal _parallel universe."

Kyle rolled his eyes, but laughed in agreement.

"Kenny said our marriage would be doomed..."

"Since when do you and Kenny talk about us getting married?"

"It was a couple weeks ago, we were playing 'fuck, marry, kill' and your name came up."

"And you said you would marry me?" Kyle asked, a different kind of disbelief that Eric was used to needling his voice.

"No, I said I would kill you."

Kyle didn't respond, and Eric noticed he had stopped following him. When he looked over his shoulder, Kyle was frowning, nearly _pouting_, making it all the more harder for Eric not to kiss him.

"What?"

Kyle shrugged, trying to act nonchalant.

"Nothing..."

Eric approached him.

"Kyle, are you really upset that I said I would kill you? I didn't mean it! I would never kill you..."

Kyle narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, thank you, that makes me feel so much better..."

Eric ignored the sarcasm, and threw his hands up in the air.

"Good..."

"Then why did you say it?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you say you would kill me if you didn't mean it?" Kyle asked, smiling now.

Eric's own smile wilted, and he looked to the floor as he contemplated his answer, a clever retort. But he had nothing, and he couldn't help but smile, and chuckle at his defeat.

"Because it was..." he looked up, and noticed Kyle was grinning at him. "I-i-it was easier to say than my other answer..."

Kyle stepped closer.

"And what was your other answer?"

Eric had no idea, at the time he didn't have one. But he had one now, and when he opened his mouth to say it he realised that Kyle knew exactly what it was too. The hallway was silent save for the music downstairs - Bebe had taken control of it as soon as she arrived, and it was a lot of Ariana Grande - what was playing right now? _Into You? _Eric couldn't focus on anything except Kyle's eyes searching his face for an answer, not to the question he posed, but to what he should do, and wanted to do, and Eric was willing to wait forever for Kyle to find the answers he needed in him. But suddenly, Kyle was grabbing his face and smashing their lips together.

They both stumbled from the force of their collision, from the shock, but Eric returned the kiss. He would have been crazy not to. He tilted his head, closed his eyes, found Kyle's waist and grabbed his shirt, twisting fistfuls of material like he was pleading with Kyle to not let him go. Their numbing, stinging lips separated with hot, shuddering gasps. Kyle was hazy, and hot, and burning in Eric's lidded eyes, and he pressed him up against the wall just as hard as Kyle pressed their lips together. Their mouths fused, bodies fused together, tongues scorching and cheeks burning, and Eric almost buckled, fell to his knees when Kyle dragged a hand through his hair, and sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. He groaned, muffled and overjoyed, releasing Kyle's shirt and letting his hands meet bare skin. Kyle didn't care, tugging at Eric's own shirt and pulling him closer like he was worried he would stop this, he would leave him, and Eric would have had to beeen fucking _insane_ to do that. This was better than that tense first kiss under the bleachers, the almost kiss on Eric's couch, and better than all their unabashed, virtual kisses combined.

They released each other when they heard footsteps, shirts creased and stretched and lips bruised and flushed. They were panting too much to talk, and Eric was too happy to even be angry at the asshole who ruined this. Was it ruined, really? When Kyle was smiling at him with dark, glimmering eyes? They broke out in uncontrollable, contagious giggles.

"Hey..."

They both turned their heads to acknowledge Kenny at the top of the stairs. He glanced between the two of them with a tiny smirk and a dent in his brow.

"You guys alright?"

Eric gulped, and nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine..."

Kyle nodded in return, and waved his hand above his head as he tried to recollect why they were up there in the first place

"We were just putting Linda to bed..." he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "I mean, Butters'... Mrs mom..."

Kyle closed his eyes, body sagging with embarrassment. But he cracked an eye open when Eric started to laugh again, and smiled.

"Okay... uhhh... I was just looking for Butters."

"Oh yeah, I think he's in his room," Kyle replied. "He was pretty upset earlier."

"I'll go talk to him," Eric offered.

Kyle blinked.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, me and Butters... we got a thing, you know?" Eric replied, not knowing what he was saying but he didn't care. "I know how to talk to him."

"Okay..." Kyle smiled.

Eric watched Kyle follow Kenny downstairs, and his heart fluttered when he kept stealing glances of him over his shoulder. Even when Kyle vanished from his sight Eric was still smiling, wide and giddy. He tried to open Butters' door but it was locked. He frowned to himself, before he gave the door a knock.

"Butters?"

"Leave me alone!"

Eric threw his head back and sighed, rolling his eyes. He knocked again, harder.

"Butters, come on! Everybody's downstairs having a good time, and you're missing it! I know this isn't what you had planned, but you're just making it worse for yourself hiding in your-"

Eric was cut off by the door opening, revealing a seething Butters. His eyes were red and sore, his cheeks dewy with tears. Eric hated to admit it, but a pissed off Butters always made him a little nervous.

"_I'm_ making it worse? Fuck you, Eric!"

"Butters, chill-"

"No! This is all your fault, Eric!"

"Hey, that shit was Kenny's, okay? It wasn't even mine! Alright, I may have put it in the brownies-"

"Then it is your fault, asshole!" Butters cried. "And I'm always left dealing with the shit when you decide to do something, because it's what _you_ want to do! That's all that matters! Well, I'm through with it! You don't care about anybody else except yourself! You don't care if you hurt people, you don't care about messing with people as long as you get what you want! Even if it means taking good things and turning them rotten, you don't give a fucking shit, Eric!" Butters' voice had cracked, anguished words pouring out like the fresh tears welling in his eyes. "This was supposed to be _my_ party, because I'm going through a tough time and you're so self-absorbed you couldn't even give me that! So just leave me the fuck alone and at least let me be mad at you!"

Something unusual clutched Eric's stomach, and it wasn't nerves, or fear, but something he rarely felt. Pervasive, and nauseating and what he always wanted to expel from his system whenever it reoccurred. Guilt.

His voice was weak and brittle when he finally found it.

"Butters, I-"

He was once again cut off by Butters' stupid bedroom door, this time it was slamming in his face. There was no hope for further discussion, when Eric heard the lock click shut.

He fumed at the door, his teeth gritted. His guilt was swelling, alongside anger that bubbled impotently.

"Fine!" he shouted. "Go ahead and wallow in your room, you fucking pussy! At least this party is actually fun now, no thanks to you!"

Butters' words were rattling in his mind, and Eric could feel himself shaking. Of course it was nothing that Eric hadn't heard before, nothing that Kyle hadn't screamed in his face over the years, and he had felt so euphoric before that he hated that this could tear him down so easily, and he fucking hated Butters too.

"Dick..." he muttered under his breath, before heading back downstairs.

He considered that maybe he was just crashing. Maybe he needed a drink, or another brownie, or Kyle. He smiled when he thought of hanging out with Kyle again, talking to him, making him laugh, getting him alone and kissing him again. But his smile vanished when he saw Kyle chatting with Heidi, standing as close to each other as they had been when they needed to hear each other talk, as if their words were so important. Didn't Kyle want to hang out with him? Wasn't he thinking about him? Waiting for him? It stung, how wrong he was. Kyle didn't get to do this to him. He didn't get to kiss him and act like nothing happened, to run back to Heidi and pretend. Eric fixed his frown into a mean smile, and strode over to them.

"Hey..."

Kyle's smile shrank when he noticed Eric.

"Oh..." Heidi replied, trying to smile. She looked between him and Kyle. "Hi, Eric..."

"What's up?" Kyle asked, hard and serious.

Eric shrugged, undeterred.

"Nothing, I just wanted to hang out with you guys."

"That's nice, Eric, but..."

"But what?" Eric asked, blinking innocently as if he'd missed something. "You don't wanna hang out with me, Heidi? You think we'd have nothing to talk about?"

"Cartman..." Kyle said, voice growing darker.

"We actually have a lot in common, Heidi." Eric smiled. "All three of us."

"Like what?"

"Well, we've all made out with each other, for one thing."

Eric ignored the dread clouding Kyle's face, ignored the ramifications of his admission. He just smiled at Heidi, calm and oblivious while she processed the information.

"What?"

"He's good, isn't he?" Eric continued, eyes narrowed and voice just a tad gushy. "Like when he bites..."

"Bites?" Heidi asked, looking at Kyle. "We, uh, w-w-we never..."

"Cartman, please just-"

"Hold up, you two kissed?"

Kyle was suddenly interrupted by Red, she and Bebe were stood on the periphery of the conversation.

"Oh my God, when?" Bebe added.

"It's none of your fucking business!" Kyle snapped.

Bebe and Red scoffed, giving him pissed off, confused looks before they turned their backs on them. Eric knew that word would spread about this by Monday, and right now he didn't care. In fact, he was revelling in the possibility. If people are gonna talk about you, you may as well be the instigator.

"Cartman, I need to talk to you _now_."

Eric looked between Kyle and a bewildered Heidi.

"But we're in the middle of-"

"Cartman," Kyle cut in, nostrils flaring. "I'm not fucking kidding, okay?"

"Fine..."

Eric didn't react when Kyle grabbed his arm and led him out the door. It was freezing outside, and the streetlights made the snow glow orange and illuminated Kyle's furious face. His arm was surely bruised from Kyle's grip, and he could still feel the temporary grooves in his skin.

He straightened his shoulders and stared Kyle down, he was seething and his eyes were alight with panic and fury.

"What the fuck was that?!" Kyle yelled.

"Me doing you a favour."

Kyle's brows furrowed and he threw his arms out at his sides.

"What?! How the fuck is what you did back there doing me a favour, Cartman?!"

"Well, if you and Heidi are getting back together you would've had to tell her about that kiss, right?" Eric replied, crossing his arms. "I just saved you the trouble!"

"Why do you think me and Heidi are getting back together?! We were just talking-"

"Oh, sure you were!" Eric snapped, composure cracking. "You know, you can't just run back to Heidi because you're scared of how you feel-"

"Are you seriously going to fucking preach to me right now about what I should or shouldn't do! Fuck you! You have no idea how I feel!"

Eric gasped, incredulous, uncrossing his arms.

"Come on! You seriously expect me to buy that after you kissed me? You seemed pretty sure of yourself then, didn't you?"

Kyle threw his head back, despairing.

"Jesus Christ... "

"No, what the hell was that, Kyle?" Eric demanded, lurching forward.

"It was nothing!" Kyle cried. "It... it was a mistake!"

Eric blinked, stumbled backwards like Kyle had punched him. He had been so fucking wrong, and it stung more than ever.

"A mistake?"

Kyle studied his face and frowned, wincing because Eric's hurt must have been so pathetically obvious.

"No, I..." he closed the gap between them. "God, Cartman, I didn't mean it like that. I just-"

He avoided Kyle's touch, even when it was still all he wanted.

"Don't," he replied, shaking his head. "You know what? Go ahead and be with Heidi for all I care. Sorry if I ruined your chances with her."

He walked away before Kyle could respond, and vowed not to look back.

"What?!" Kyle yelled after him. "Cartman, what are you- I don't want Heidi!"

Eric gritted his teeth, and kept to his promise, looking straight ahead.


	8. Chapter 8

Kyle woke up the next morning, not curled up in a sleeping bag in Butters' living room, but in his own bed. His tongue was dry, his skull was throbbing, and memories resurfaced too soon from his groggy mind. He remembered being tangled up on the floor with Cartman, dancing with him, kissing him and then watching him walk away. Too stubborn, and mad, and confused to follow him. What could he say? What was the point when it was not what Cartman wanted to hear? Why should he follow him after the damage he caused? He remembered the kiss, the craving it placated and his awe at how good it felt - his fingers in Cartman's hair, his hands on his waist, Cartman's lip between his teeth... he grumbled, rolling onto his back and squinting at the too-bright sunlight peaking through the curtains.

"Hey..."

Heidi was sat cross-legged beside him, leaning against the wall as she scrolled through her phone.

"Hey..." Kyle replied, voice raspy and not even questioning why Heidi was there. He was still coming around. "Wuh-wait, what are you doing here?" Prickling panic woke him up, and he looked under the covers to find he was still fully clothed. He still had his jeans on. "We didn't-"

Heidi blinked, shaking her head with a serious, reassuring dent in her brow,

"No, no, we didn't. After you talked to Eric outside you were really down, so I took you home."

"Oh..." Kyle nodded, he offered her a small smile as he sat up. "Thanks, Heidi..."

Heidi's eyes roamed the bed, before she sighed, placing her phone on her lap.

"So do you wanna tell me what happened between you two? I couldn't get a straight answer out of you last night."

Kyle gulped, shifting to find a comfortable position although he knew there was no comfortable way to admit it.

"Well, we, uh... we kissed-"

"I know. Eric told me that."

Kyle remembered Cartman ratting on them both, the self-satisfied grin and his mean eyes. They appeared more devastating than ever last night.

"Do you think everyone knows?" he asked. "Bebe and Red heard, would they say something?"

Heidi shrugged, frowning, and the corners of her eyes were creased with pity.

"Probably... I, I-I don't know..."

Kyle sighed, and closed his eyes. His head 'thunked' against the headboard.

"God damn it..."

"Is it really such a big deal, though? I get that it sucks having people talk about you, but nobody is gonna hate you for it-"

"Really?" Kyle asked, cracking a sceptical eye open. "It's Cartman we're talking about here. You know better than anyone how judgemental people can get-"

"Well, if you know that too then why did you kiss him?" Heidi smirked.

"Because I was wasted!" Kyle replied, heat rising on his face as quickly as his voice. "And we were hanging out all night, and having a good time, I... when we're alone, or in the game, it just feels different. _We're_ different, and when I'm around him, I-I-I don't think-"

Heidi shook her head. "Wait, I'm lost... what game?"

Kyle froze, it had felt like so long since he played the game he forgot it was supposed to be a secret.

"Oh... fuck..." he sighed. "I guess there's no reason not to tell you now though..."

"Tell me what?"

"Remember you suggested I find something to take my mind off stuff? To stop over-thinking? Well, I was at the mall with the guys and there was a demo for one of those Universum add-ons. You've heard of those?"

Heidi nodded. "Yeah, it's like VR-"

"Exactly. Well, I tried one of them and everything in the game was so vivid, so unlike my real life, and so exciting that I thought buying it would help me clear my head. I could just... immerse myself in this other life. It would be a place I could escape to, and in this game you can do pretty much anything, Heidi. You can follow the story, or interact with other players, or you can just explore the world, you know? You do whatever you want, and you can _feel_ everything. Cartman had the add-on too, and he invited me to play a PVP battle one night, and... he kissed me. It freaked me out, and we talked about it in real life and agreed it meant nothing, it was just a game thing..." Kyle paused, looked at his lap, to his nervous, wringing fingers. His cheeks were burning. "But then we started hooking up in the game and it felt incredible, it was actually starting to make me feel better... but I think Cartman got the wrong idea. I think he likes me now, and I'm so fucking confused because I love playing the game, I love how it made me feel, and sometimes I think I could..." he gulped again, and it felt like he was forcing a boulder down his throat. His voice cracked with the pressure, or maybe the weight being relieved? "I... I-I think I could like Cartman too, but that's fucking crazy, right? I thought we could keep everything separate, but I can't tell my fucking feelings apart anymore..."

Heidi was nodding, eyes clouded with thought.

"Okay... there's a lot to unpack here..."

Kyle scoffed, and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah..."

Heidi shifted beside him, as though she were gearing up for what she was about to say.

"So... um..." she pursed her lips, but soon smiled. "Is it really so crazy that you could like Eric too? I mean, come on, Kyle, I dated both of you and you talk about each other a _lot_, which obviously means you think about each other, and I just..." laughter trickled from her lips, and she ducked her head to conceal it. "I can't believe that you find this thing that you think will help clear your mind, and it just leads you right back to the guy you're fixated on-"

"I'm not fixated on Cartman!"

"Right, because if you weren't fixated on him you wouldn't talk about him all the time, or continually hook up with him in this weird, virtual world, or even enter into this friends-with-benefits-by-proxy relationship with him, and tell yourself that it's fine, or you wouldn't kiss him in real life and have a breakdown over it."

Kyle frowned, that revelation was an eerie omission from his memory.

"I broke down? I don't remember doing that..."

"Yeah, you kept calling him an asshole, and wondering what it is that he wants from you, when it's pretty obvious that he wants _you_."

"It's obvious?"

Heidi rolled her eyes to the ceiling, a wide, exasperated grin breaking out on her face.

"Yes! God, Kyle, for a smart guy you're so fucking dumb!"

Kyle scoffed in disbelief, a smile quirking in the corner of his mouth.

"You know that's like, only the fifth time I've ever heard you say that word?"

"What word?"

"The 'F' word."

Heidi scrunched her smile up a little, and tucked some hair behind her ear.

"Well, I've been putting up with this shit since fourth grade, so I'm a little frustrated! Aren't you?"

"Please, I've got you beat," Kyle replied, crossing his arms. "I've been frustrated with Cartman since preschool... how did you figure this all out anyway?"

Heidi rolled her eyes, rendering the question unimportant.

"Look, this is just my perspective, and I didn't know everything straight away. I figured a lot of this out when we broke up, and I had more time to think-"

"A little ironic, huh?" Kyle teased.

"Yeah, it's almost like you've rubbed off on me," she replied, before soon slipping into a soft, but serious tone. "But it just seems to me that Eric is your one big distraction, you know? I think he's at the centre of a lot of your insecurity, and doubt, and frustration, and he's not entirely to blame for that. The only way you'll figure out what you want is if you look a little deeper, and that takes a guts. You say it's crazy for you to like him, but there must be something there, right? Something to make you go back to him in the game again and again, to kiss him, to keep being his friend! And if you keep burying your thoughts, acting on impulse and then denying yourself what you want then everybody gets hurt. You, Eric... it's not fair to either of you."

Kyle blinked, and his chest felt all prickly, like his heart was stinging, as if Heidi's words had exposed it to a raw, painful truth.

"So what do I do now?" he asked, voice just above a whisper.

"Think really hard about what you want," Heidi implored, looking straight into his eyes. "Turn off all the other shit in your head, and really think about what you want, and accept the answer whatever it may be, no matter how crazy it seems."

Kyle nodded, jaw clenched.

"Alright..." he whispered, thin and brittle.

Heidi smiled, shuffled closer, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Kyle returned the hug, clasping their bodies together. His nose stung and his vision blurred, remembering Heidi's soft skin, hair, warmth, scent, and he had forgotten how much he missed it. It was comforting, but not striking, not intoxicating like Cartman was, even when he was just in his orbit, when they hadn't touched, when Kyle _wanted_ to touch him - in a hallway, on a Twister mat, on a couch, in his bed, it was almost debilitating.

"I'm sorry I wasn't a better boyfriend," Kyle murmured.

"You were a great boyfriend... " Heidi replied, voice warm against his neck.

* * *

For an entire day all Kyle thought about was Cartman.

He thought about their friendship, their disagreements, everything that frustrated him about Cartman. He thought of the restless energy they felt in each other's company, both of them excellent conductors for whatever electricity, or unique brand of 'spark' they shared that made Kyle feel so unnerved. He never felt it around anyone else and when Cartman wasn't around, the agitating absence he experienced was unique only to him. He thought about those times when they were truly alone together, hanging out just the two of them, and wish they happened more often, because it was a strange kind of serenity. Kyle was content in Cartman's company when he wasn't being a total dick.

He thought about all the events that had led him to this point, spending an entire Sunday, distracted and distant, because he was finally untangling all the webs he and Cartman had continued to tangle themselves up in over the years, because they could never stay away from each other. He thought about the game, and he thought about Amber too. But thoughts of long blond hair, an hourglass figure, and a wide, dazzling smile gave way to thoughts of flushed, chubby cheeks, and a wicked grin, and soft lips that kissed him harder and better than anyone else ever had, and he realised of course he had feelings for Cartman. He had a million feelings for him in every hue, and this bold, daring hue of actual romantic feelings for Eric Cartman was one Kyle was struggling with, so outrageous, and unfamiliar that Kyle was hesitating painting his entire life with it. He tried to say the words out loud to himself, to no one, alone in his room and they wouldn't come out, scared to even leave his throat.

Monday morning arrived, and knowing how he felt but still not knowing how to act on it was even more infuriating than being totally clueless. He wished he had another day to contemplate, or even strategise. But there was no point in hiding away when he had to face Cartman someday, as well as whoever may have heard about that fucking kiss.

Stan was quiet when he picked him up, even if he would've denied it if Kyle actually pointed out that fact. But even the easy, worn-out greetings they had been exchanging for years, sleepy and still preparing for the day, felt difficult and strained. Silence ruled in the car now. Kyle gnawed at his thumb, while they waited for Cartman.

"So, um, did you stay the night at Butters' house?" Kyle asked.

"I didn't have a choice," Stan replied. "I was wasted, and I couldn't drive all the way back to the farm. "

"Oh..." Kyle nodded. "Did Kenny stay too?"

"Yeah, he did."

Kyle nodded again, contemplating another question. He had only asked initially to break the silence, but now he was interested in how the rest of night unfolded.

"Did you even see Butters the rest of the night?"

"No..." Stan shook his head. "We saw him in the morning though. He was all bummed out, and it was so fucking awkward with his mom. Me and Kenny didn't stick around too long."

Kyle sighed, eyes closed. He knew it was irrational, to feel guilty on Cartman's behalf, but that didn't erase the sinking feeling in his chest.

"God damn it..."

"Kyle?"

"Yeah?" Kyle asked, opening his eyes.

"You and Cartman... " Stan swallowed, his fingers flexed around the steering wheel. "You didn't hook up, did you?"

"No!" Kyle exclaimed, his whole body flared. "Jesus, no, why the fuck would you even think that?"

"Dude, I know you made out with him! And you both left so it's not crazy to think that-"

"No, nothing else happened, Stan," Kyle cut in, averting his gaze.

"Okay..." Stan replied, and it sounded like he was expelling all his anxiety with it. "That's a relief... like, you can do whatever you want, but you and Cartman... it wouldn't be a good idea. At all."

Kyle blinked, of course Stan's response wasn't a surprise to him, he wouldn't have been at all apprehensive about his feelings if he thought this would be easy. But Stan had spoken with an assurance Kyle was jealous of, and craved.

"Really?"

Stan turned to him, a tiny crease in his brow.

"Of course it wouldn't," he replied, his eyes widened a little. "You're not..."

Kyle shook his head, and ignored another sinking feeling in his chest, betraying himself.

"No, no, Saturday was just a big mistake..."

Kyle didn't know if he sounded convincing, but Stan was nodding, so maybe he had pulled it off. He looked over his shoulder.

"Here he comes..." Stan murmured.

Kyle glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Cartman approaching them, moody and with his hands tucked in his pockets. He felt nauseous, and he didn't know if it was butterflies or dread.

Cartman got in the car without a greeting.

"Dude, finally!"

"Fuck off, Stan..." Cartman muttered.

Kyle couldn't stop staring at him in the rear view mirror, conscious of his ragged breathing and his heart pounding in his chest. He felt like Cartman knew he had been thinking about him all weekend, had figured out his feelings, Kyle supposed the latter was probably true. Their eyes met, but Kyle tore his gaze away.

Kyle regretted that for the rest of the car journey. He vowed that when they got to school he would try to talk to Cartman. He had no idea what he would say, and he felt like he may throw up, but damn it if he wasn't going to try to be honest with him. They pulled into the school parking lot, and Kyle didn't say anything to Stan and Kenny as they got out, he was solely focused on Cartman, who seemed intent on getting out of the car as fast as possible.

Still, he tried to keep up, even if Cartman was fucking marching to class without one glance over his shoulder.

"Hey, Cartman!"

Cartman didn't respond, and Kyle ignored the huffs of the people he was pushing past.

"Cartman!"

Still nothing, but at least Kyle was close enough to grab his arm. He growled under his breath and reached out, fingers wrapping around Cartman's arm and squeezing just as hard as they did Saturday night.

"Asshole, I'm talking to you!"

Cartman looked at him, indignant and bruised, and it was nearly enough to make Kyle lose his nerve.

"Yeah, I heard you!"

"Then why didn't you turn around?"

Cartman narrowed his eyes.

"Because maybe I wanted to make you look like an idiot, so you could see how it feels-"

Kyle dropped Cartman's arm, and rolled his eyes.

"God, don't give me that shit, Cartman! I get that I fucked up, okay? But so did you-"

"Is that why you wanted to talk to me? To make sure I knew that?"

"No, I..." Kyle stopped, frowning. "I-I-I wanted to say sorry-"

"Fine." Cartman shrugged, but his face was still stony. "Now can you leave me alone?"

Kyle's jaw tightened, his nostrils flared as Cartman disregarded his apology, turned his back on him like it meant nothing, like he hadn't driven Kyle to this point to then act so fucking flippant.

"What? No! Cartman-"

He grabbed Cartman's arm again, and Cartman looked at him with that same bewildered, angry loo. But it didn't unnerve Kyle this time.

"Kyle, seriously, stop-"

"I wasn't finished!"

"What more is there to say?" Cartman exclaimed, ripping his arm out of Kyle's grip again. "It's not as if I haven't heard it before, so unless you've got something new to say to me, I'm not interested!"

He had called Kyle's bluff, but he could barely catch his breath, let alone find the words that felt impossible to say.

"Well? Have you?"

Kyle kept looking down at his feet and then up to Cartman's face. He wished he could physically pull the words from his body, hold them up for Cartman to see, and it would be gross, and horrifying, and totally gratuitous but at least he would know, at least they would be out of Kyle's system.

"Didn't think so," Cartman muttered, bored of this now.

He walked away, and Kyle had never been more livid at the sight. Cartman didn't get to do this to him. He didn't get to rouse all these feelings, occupy his thoughts, drive him fucking crazy and then just walk away from it all. Before he knew it, he was storming over to him.

"God fucking damn it, you don't get to blow me off like that!" he cried, shoving Cartman in the back, hard enough to make him stumble.

Some people had noticed, stopped to watch and murmur. Kyle was seething and shaking, and Cartman was glaring at him, hurt and furious. Kyle was being shoved back before he could even apologise. But adrenaline was filling him up, any apology forgotten. He threw a punch, fist connecting with Cartman's jaw, and as he watched Cartman's head be forcibly turned sideways, heard the gasps from the forming crowd, a little voice murmured in the back of his head, hoping that Cartman was okay.

But then Cartman was grabbing his shirt, and before Kyle knew it they were actually fighting. In real life, where adrenaline is surging, and punches land harder, and wear you down, and the people who care about you intervene, and the people who don't just cheer because it's the most exciting thing they've seen for a while on a Monday morning.

"Dude!" Stan cried. "Kyle, what the hell?!"

Kyle felt another pair of hands grabbing him, trying to pull him back. In the sweaty, angry, aching blur, he noticed Kenny was trying to do the same thing.

"Cartman, come on!" he huffed.

"Hey, you two!" The familiar voice of a teacher barked. "Break it up!"

A teacher in brown slacks and a faded shirt got in the middle of them, arms outstretched and creating a partition between them.

"Everyone, get to class now!" he ordered.

The students wandered off, and Stan was murmuring something frantic in his ear, but Kyle only saw Cartman, just as dazed as he was.

* * *

Sat in Mr Mackey's office, with his leg jittering, his arms folded, and Cartman sat next to him, Kyle was riding out an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, along with his warring anger and nerves. It wasn't as if he hadn't been here before, although that seemed forever ago. He and the guys often wondered why Mr Mackey chose to work in the high school in the first place, and they came up with a theory that he most likely become so invested in the chaotic lives of their class that he felt it was his duty to check in on them right until they went to college and left South Park (hopefully) for good. Kyle didn't know if it was endearing or sad, but he was unsurprised Mr Mackey had grown so attached. Elementary school felt like it had lasted twenty years...

"Mmkay, boys, so why don't you tell me how this got started?"

Cartman turned to Kyle, smile mean and eyes narrowed. There was a little swell in his jaw, a deep pink beginnings of a bruise. Kyle tried not to look at it.

"Care to tell him, Kyle?"

"Kyle, you started this? I have to say I'm very disappointed..."

"No!" Kyle exclaimed. "No, I didn't start it!"

Cartman scoffed.

"Yeah, right!" Cartman turned to Mr Mackey. "Butters had a party on Saturday night, and Kyle made out with me, only to start flirting with his ex-girlfriend again, and pretend like nothing happened!"

Mr Mackey blinked, and before he could even utter of a response, Kyle leapt in.

"Bullshit, Cartman! I didn't pretend like nothing happened!"

Cartman nodded, a finger pressed to his chin like he was seriously recollecting the events of Saturday night.

"No, that's right, you just said it was a mistake. Charming, huh, Mr Mackey?"

"Well... uh, Eric, I can see why that would be hurtful, but maybe Kyle was just trying to be honest with you-"

"But it wasn't a mistake!" Kyle cried.

"Then why did you say it was?" Cartman asked.

"It just came out! I was trying to explain, but you wouldn't let me! You just walked off like you did today, when I was actually trying to apologise to you! But you don't fucking listen if it's not what you wanna hear! Because you're a spoiled, selfish prick!"

Cartman sighed, folded his arms across his chest.

"Okay, forget the apology. I don't give a shit about that. Why don't you tell me what you were trying to explain to me on Saturday?"

Kyle blinked, not expecting the question and not knowing how to answer.

"Huh?"

His mind had shifted into something unrecognisable that night, how could he begin to make sense of it? Especially when Cartman had walked away before he could even _think_ of a coherent explanation?

"Why did you kiss me?" Cartman asked. His cocky, triumphant tone wobbled a little, revealing an earnest question.

Still, it was a fantastic bluff to call. Kyle glanced warily between Mr Mackey and Cartman, wondering if he could even admit the partial reason without getting in serious trouble.

Kyle turned to Cartman, and lowered his head and his voice.

"You know I can't say that..."

"Can't say what?" Cartman shrugged, voice clear. "The fact that we had eaten brownies with Molly in them?"

Kyle stiffened, eyes widened. When he glanced at Mr Mackey, he appeared just as shocked by Cartman's casual admission.

"What the hell, Cartman?!"

Mr Mackey shuffled some papers on his desk, fingers fidgeting.

"Mm... mmkayy, well, you see boys, uh... d-d-drugs are bad..."

Kyle sighed, figured he shouldn't deny it.

"Look, maybe it did have something to do with the brownies..."

Cartman scoffed.

"Right..." he muttered to the wall.

"It did! It may not be the whole reason, but it's part of it! I wasn't thinking straight! Lately..." Kyle's head dropped, his shoulders drooped. "I-I-I find it hard to think straight around you-"

"Yeah, 'straight' being the operative word..."

Kyle huffed, his frustration so combustible he felt like he was about to explode.

"Things have been so weird between us, and I don't know how to act around you anymore!"

"Mmkay, Kyle, so you shoved Eric because you wanted to apologise to him for what happened on Saturday and he wouldn't accept the apology?" Mr Mackey asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes!"

Mr Mackey was nodding.

"Mmkay, and why couldn't you accept the apology, Eric?"

Cartman glanced between Kyle and Mr Mackey with a deep crease in his brow.

"Huh?"

"You were clearly upset by what happened, mmkay, so wouldn't you be happy if Kyle apologised to you?"

"Well..." Cartman rolled his eyes, fidgety. "Yeah, if he meant it..."

"You're really gonna fucking lecture me on sincere apologies?" Kyle snapped, before nearly lurching out of his chair as he addressed Mr Mackey. "He wouldn't accept my apology because that's not what he wants me to say! And because it's not what he wants to hear, he doesn't care!"

Mr Mackey nodded, calm, now he appeared to have a grip on the situation. His hands were clasped in front of him on his desk.

"Is there anything you want Kyle to say to you, Eric?"

Kyle's breath stilled, his palms prickling as he looked at Cartman and waited for his answer. Of course he knew what Cartman wanted him to say, had practically been provoking him to say.

Cartman stared at Kyle, with a tight, stubborn frown. He glanced at his shoes, and then at a far wall.

"No..." he mumbled.

Kyle sighed, threw his head back.

"Bull fucking shit..."

"Mmkay, Kyle, what do you think Eric wants to hear?"

The question drew them to each other, and Kyle knew the look on Cartman's face was mirrored on his - lips parted, breaths terse, and completely exhausted. Because despite their pride, their stifled communication, the complete fucked-upness of it all, he knew they were going through the same thing. They were both waiting, and willing, and pushing.

"I think he wants me to admit that I like him," Kyle replied, never taking his eyes off Cartman.

He watched his mouth twitch, his Adam's apple bob in his throat.

Mr Mackey nodded.

"Eric, if Kyle said that to you how it would make you feel?"

Cartman was still staring at Kyle, as if in a daze. His eyes were glimmering. The question seemed to stir him, and he gulped, eyes wandering the carpet before he responded with that false, indifferent shrug that Kyle was starting to hate, more than he had ever thought he could hate Cartman.

"I don't know," he replied. "I wouldn't care."

"Jesus Christ!" Kyle cried, voice cracking. He twisted in his chair to face Cartman completely. "You can't expect people to be honest with you, Cartman, if you don't offer them the same courtesy. I'm really fucking trying, so you have to work with me here-"

"Trying?!" he yelled, arms thrown down at his sides. "Trying to do what?! Fucking run away, clean up after your mess?!"

"I'm trying to make things normal again! Damn it, I don't wanna fucking lose you!"

"Mm... Mmkay..." Mr Mackey murmured, clambering for the control he thought he had.

"Maybe I don't want normal anymore!" Cartman cried, facing Kyle too. His face was pinked, his voice was cracked, his eyes wild and gleaming."It's not enough! You can't fucking sit here and tell me you want it go back to the old days... that game fucking changed us, Kyle!" he leaned forward, and Kyle didn't know if he was going to tackle him and pin him to the ground until he admitted something, or if he was going to grab him and kiss him. He lowered his voice. "I can't go back, and you can't either, I know you can't! I know you better than anyone else does, Kyle..." he sighed, shattered and pleading. "Please... please just say it..."

It was startling, how sudden and relieving the urge to just give in felt, to just admit it. He imagined the look on Cartman's face, how pain would give in to happiness, and he imagined how it would feel to be open, and inhibited, and honest around each other, and it made him feel happier than he had felt in a long time. He took a deep breath, tried to counter that impulse with caution, but when he found himself looking into Cartman's eyes again, it was hard to fight.

"Mm... mmkay, boys, head to class," Mr Mackey said, breaking them out of their haze. He coughed into his fist, unable to handle anymore of this strange situation. "You're... clearly going through a lot right now, so I'll let you off the hook for this. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

Kyle nodded, deflated.

"Thanks, Mr Mackey..."

Cartman nodded too, still hazy. They wandered out of the office without even looking at each other, and out in the empty hallway, Kyle's ears were ringing and his mind was whirring. He jolted when he felt Cartman's knuckles tap his, fingers brushing against his own.

"Well?" Cartman asked, a smile flickering in the corner of his mouth.

Kyle shook his head. His nerve was gone, reality slowly seeping back in and suffocating him.

"I can't..." he croaked. "I can't right now, Cartman..."

Cartman frowned, and stepped closer.

"Kyle..."

"Sorry," Kyle cut in, backing away and wincing at the disappointment on his face. "I-I-I'll see you around..."

He walked away before Cartman could respond, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. His shoulders were hunched, and he kept his head down, throat clenched tight.

"Of course you're gonna fucking walk away again!" Cartman shouted after him. "Fucking pussy! What are you so afraid of, Kyle? What other people think? Well, fuck them!"

Kyle gritted his teeth, his eyes were burning.

"I'm not afraid!" he replied over his shoulder, it was easier to lie that way.

"Then what the hell is your problem?" Cartman cried. "What's so hard?! Come on, you won't shut up about anything else, so just say it!"

Kyle couldn't take it anymore. He turned on his heel, marching over to Cartman. He stood there waiting for him, firm and unwavering and Kyle didn't detect any shock until he was right in front of him. He grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt, and Kyle could only make out the softest inhale when he pressed him against the lockers, silencing him with a hard kiss. Cartman returned the kiss, frantic, as he grasped Kyle's shirt, clawing into his waist, while his other hand gripped and tugged at his hair. Kyle could barely feel his mouth as he kissed Cartman numb, faces and bodies smushed together, a lucid, novocaine sort of high that he had to remind himself was actually happening as he inhaled Cartman's scent, or nipped at his lips, or registered his nails scraping across his scalp. It was incredible, and infuriating, and terrifying, how this was the best of both worlds, virtual and so, so real.

They paused for shuddering air, a thin, string of saliva connecting their lips. It was gross, but Kyle didn't give a shit.

"I knew it..." Cartman smiled, hazy, and burning, and gleaming.

"Shut up..." Kyle murmured, crashing their lips together again.

"Kyle..." Cartman whispered, _implored_.

Kyle ignored him, knowing what he wanted when all _Kyle_ wanted was for this not to end.

"Tell me..." Cartman demanded, a ragged, hot whisper.

Kyle shook his head, noses brushing together. He frowned.

"I can't..." he replied, panting.

"Why not?" Cartman was frowning and panting too.

Kyle's nose stung, his heart clenching so hard he felt like it would rob him of breath. He shook his head again, slower, and despairing, face creased. He sighed, and figured that if he was going to cry, it may as well be on Cartman's shoulder.

Cartman froze, this breakdown unexpected. But Kyle felt his body soften, and his fingers found their way into his curls, stroking and twirling them.

"It's just hard, Cartman... " he murmured, voice muffled against a soft shoulder.

Cartman sighed, Kyle felt the rise and fall.

"Yeah, no shit..." he deadpanned.

Kyle pulled back, and saw Cartman frowning. In his blurry vision, he could see sympathy buried in the lines of his face.

"I know it's fucking hard, okay?"

"Then why do you need to hear it so badly?"

"Because then it would be real," Cartman replied. He closed his eyes, exhaled through his nose. "I can't... I can't take _this_ anymore..." he opened his eyes and they found Kyle's easily, pained. "Hiding... pretending... it's killing me..."

Kyle nodded, lips pressed together. He leaned in a little more, even if he knew it was dangerous, even if he knew he wasn't brave enough. Their noses touched, their eyelids lowered, but they were pulled apart by the bell for second period.

The halls erupted with students, and they remembered themselves. Cartman rolled his eyes, his body slumping.

"See you later..." he mumbled, hurried and frustrated, slipping away from Kyle and into the crowd.

* * *

**A/N: **_Hey, so given what is going on in the world right now, __ I hope you're all staying safe and are doing well! And in fic related news, we are only two chapters away from the end, so stay tuned! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to know your thoughts! _


	9. Chapter 9

Kyle hadn't talked to Cartman in five days... not the kind of talking they were used to, at least. There had been short greetings, minimal eye contact, mumbling remarks, and Kyle was going crazy with the fact they were getting away with it. Stan and Kenny were awkward enablers, and Kyle didn't know whether to be offended by their indifference, or sympathetic. It must have been nice for them not to hear him and Cartman bickering, but that was their normal too, right? Weren't they unnerved by this change? Maybe they just didn't want to get involved, when word of their kiss did in fact spread. Kyle was surprised by the lack of interest, relieved that the sideways looks faded after a day or two, but still couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling of everybody knowing his business.

So many things were driving him nuts lately, tiny neuroses with Cartman at the centre. Every glance in his direction was temptation to say a million different things. He wanted to apologise, scream at him, confess to him, but he was impulsive only to a point. Besides, he hadn't been sleeping well lately, if he struck up a serious, heartfelt conversation with Cartman he wouldn't know when to stop rambling, probably when his mind and heart was completely drained. It was almost enough to make him bail on the Grand Canyon trip, when he would be in such close quarters with Cartman. But a weekend alone in South Park with only his thoughts to keep him company would give him a migraine, and possibly result in a nervous breakdown.

They were six hours into their bus journey, and instead of napping Kyle had been staring at the back of Cartman's head, sat a few rows in front of him.

"Kyle... " Stan's voice drifted into his ear. He shoved him. "Kyle!"

"Huh?" Kyle grumbled, blinking.

"Do you wanna watch a movie or something?" Stan asked, eyebrow arched.

Kyle blinked a couple more times, nodding slowly.

"Yeah..." he replied, slipping a earphone in. "Yeah, sure..."

"You okay, man?"

"Yeah..." Kyle sighed. "Yeah, I'm just tired."

Stan nodded, like he was weighing up calling Kyle out on his blatant lie, or just humouring him.

"Alright, well, you can pick what we watch."

Kyle chuckled at Stan's well-meaning gesture, and scrolled through his phone for a movie.

An hour passed by before they pulled into another rest-stop in the middle of Utah. Stan paused the movie as everybody on the bus started to murmur, and Kyle heard the hiss of the engine winding down when he took his earphone out.

"Okay, everybody, we're gonna be stopping here for forty-five minutes!" Mrs Greene announced at the front of the bus, trying to make herself heard as everybody got out of their seats. "Stretch your legs, go to the bathroom, and we'll meet here at twelve forty-five!"

Kyle and Stan joined the shuffling line of eager students, although when he left the bus the heat outside was more stifling; a cloudless, Utah afternoon. They waited on the dusty forecourt for Cartman and Kenny, who emerged, squinting. Kenny smiled at them, Cartman remained unusually quiet. Kyle couldn't let it continue.

"Hey..." he said, stepping closer to Cartman. The word was uncomfortable, but nowhere near as uncomfortable as the last week had been.

To Kyle's surprise, Cartman actually smiled. It was small and fleeting, but it was enough. He nodded.

"Hey..."

"So, uh, they've got a Subway here?" Stan suggested. "You guys wanna eat?"

Kyle nodded.

"Sounds good, I just gotta go to the bathroom first-"

"Actually, I need to talk to you," Cartman cut in, stepping forward with no hesitation, unafraid for the first time in five days to look Kyle in the eye.

Kyle was too thrown off and delighted to reject him... again.

"Uhh.. okay..."

"We'll see you in a bit," Kenny said knowingly.

It was just the two of them. Kyle felt hotter than he was already. He rubbed at the nape of his neck, before heading in the direction of the bathroom. Cartman followed him.

"So what's up?" Kyle asked, and wondered whether that was too casual a question.

"I just..." Cartman sighed, eyes fluttering shut like he was preparing himself for something. "I wanted to apologise."

Kyle froze, this was unexpected to say the least, but Cartman looked at him over his shoulder as if he didn't realise it.

"Really?"

"Yeah?" he rolled his eyes, and smiled. "I am capable of admitting when I fucked up-"

"Seems like a pretty recent development, but okay," Kyle cut in with a smirk.

He had missed this. They were soon falling in step with each other again, walking side by side.

"Well, if that's shocking, your head is gonna fucking explode when you hear what's coming next."

"What's that?" Kyle grinned.

"I think you were right."

Kyle blinked, scanned Cartman's face for any hint that he was joking.

"You... I... what?"

Cartman was laughing.

"You were right! I've been thinking about..." he rolled his eyes and fidgeted, lowered his voice. "You, and... everything that's happened, and... I've acted like a dick. And if I've been acting like a dick, then why would you ever want anything to happen between us, you know?"

Kyle sighed, fidgety now too.

"Cartman, that's not... that's not the reason, I-"

"It's partly the reason. You wanted us to be honest with each other, right?"

Kyle nodded, and was actually grateful that Cartman wasn't suggesting they go into it in the middle of a Utah rest-stop.

"Yeah..."

"I want you to _want _to want me, you know?" Cartman continued, a tiny, earnest dent in his brow. "Not in virtual reality, not Amber, not... because I fucking wore you down. I thought I could do that. I'm pretty good at it. But even if I pulled it off, it wouldn't feel right, it wouldn't be fair. So..." he took a deep, wobbly breath. "I'm sorry for being a dick, Kyle."

Kyle nodded, a relief creeping in that he was thinking wouldn't fully hit him for a while, but he was glad that it was there.

"Thanks. I'm sorry too."

"Back to normal?" Cartman offered, extending his hand to officialise the truce.

It should have been everything Kyle was hoping for, a vow to return to normal, a deal sealed with a handshake. But with the offer in front of him, he didn't know if he wanted it anymore. Because Kyle had to admit Cartman was right too, maybe normal was no longer possible, maybe normal was never what he needed. He realised, he didn't want normal, he just wanted Cartman.

He stared at his hand, wondered if this was the guaranteed way to get what he wanted. Cartman talking to him, Cartman acting like himself around him, able to look him in the eye, Cartman in his life again, just... Cartman. He was unsure, but because he didn't want to lose that chance, lose _him_, he shook his hand anyway.

* * *

"How long do I have to stay out here?" Clyde called from the balcony, pants around his ankles, shirt lifted, and butt exposed to the poor group that had congregated in Bebe and Red's hotel room for an impromptu party.

After a ten hour bus journey, Kyle just wanted to sleep but was dragged out of his room with insistences from Stan and Kenny that this would be 'fun.' Turns out, there wasn't much fun to be had in a cheap, Arizona hotel without access to booze or much else, and their teachers occupying a room down the hall. Red had come prepared with vodka and shot glasses, and it was once the first bottle was emptied that they decided to play truth or dare to make things more 'interesting...' which apparently meant humiliating Clyde and horrifying unsuspecting hotel guests.

"Five more seconds!" Red replied, glancing at the timer set on her phone.

"Ow!" Clyde yelped, hurriedly pulling up his pants and fixing his shirt. "Some lady just threw a coke bottle at me! Hey, screw you!"

"Alright, Clyde, your time's up!" Red announced, to the relief of everyone.

"Did you guys hear me?" Clyde exclaimed, stepping back into the room and rubbing a fresh, red mark on his forehead. "I was just assaulted!"

"You were hanging dong on a balcony, so you're not without fault here, dude," Token pointed out.

Clyde grumbled, and shook his head, plopping himself down on the carpet.

"Whatever. You don't fucking do that, you know? I still maintain that was an over-reaction."

"Yeah, your dick is an under-reaction if anything," Cartman added, sat on Bebe's bed despite her nose wrinkling with disapproval when he did so.

Clyde scowled.

"Like you're one to talk, asshole-"

"Would spinning the bottle make you feel better, Clyde?" Bebe intervened with a sigh.

"Yeah, sure..."

Clyde spun the bottle, though there was hardly room to do so. They were all huddled on or around the bed. Sat cross-legged on the floor, Kyle was smushed in between Stan and Butters. The bottle finally stopped, brushing against Cartman's shoe.

Clyde looked up with a pleased grin.

"Would you look at that?"

"Just ask me the damn question, Clyde."

"And please don't make it involve his dick," Red cut in before Clyde could open his mouth.

"That's not fair!" he protested, but rolled his eyes and grumbled when he realised nobody would be backing him up. "Fine... Cartman, truth or dare?"

"Truth," Cartman replied, much to Kyle's surprise.

While Kyle knew Cartman hated being made a fool out of or humiliated, he also knew that he could be pretty shameless, or at least act like he was. He supposed it was one of those fronts he put up so he wouldn't appear vulnerable, like he would if he actually revealed a truth about himself. A cynical voice in Kyle's head told him that Clyde was unlikely to get a straight answer.

Clyde blinked, like he hadn't expected it either.

"Okay..." he nodded, giving Kyle a wary glance, and the dread was too slow to creep in for Kyle to protest. "Are you gay for Kyle?"

"Huh?" Kyle blurted out, still processing the question like a weathered computer. But his heart was pounding, and his throat closing, too late to make any kind of protest.

At least Kyle could take some comfort in the fact that Cartman would no doubt evade the question... wouldn't he?

"Dude, Clyde, what the fuck?!" Stan cried, face growing red.

Cartman, meanwhile, was sat with a placid face, waiting for his turn to speak.

"No, it's okay. This is something I've wanted to address for a while, anyway..." he narrowed his eyes at Stan. "Although I appreciate you coming to my defence, Stan, even if literally no one asked you."

Cartman got to his feet, and he somehow seemed to tower over his classmates huddled together on the floor.

"Why are you standing?" Clyde asked.

"Because this is important. To answer your question, Clyde..." he took a small breath, and smiled. "Yes. I am gay for Kyle." He ignored the dumbfounded silence, scrunching his face up and assessing his answer. "Well, I'm gay for boys in general, but Kyle in particular. Questions?"

Kyle saw some hands raising, but his head was whirring, his ears ringing. Cartman's sudden, calm confession was like a bomb that had gone off too close for comfort. He was frozen, staring into nowhere.

"How long have you known you were gay?" he heard Craig ask. His ears pricked up, curious for the answer.

Cartman shrugged.

"A few years," he replied, before picking out another question like he was at a press conference. "Wendy?"

"Um..." Wendy pursed her lips, and Kyle was the subject - once again - of a wary look. "Have you always liked Kyle?"

Magnetic, Kyle could feel Cartman's gaze shift to him. He was prickling in Cartman's silence, in his careful deliberation of his answer. Nobody wanted to hear it more than him.

"Hard to say," Cartman replied, before addressing Wendy again. "Maybe, but I didn't realise it until recently."

"When you kissed at Butters' house-"

"Okay, I'm outta here," he cut in, like any skilled media figure under scrutiny. He lifted his hand. "No further questions."

Cartman left without another word, leaving Kyle to deal with his... mess? Was it a mess, really? It was certainly dramatic, and impulsive in the only way Cartman could be. But it also took some balls to admit what he did, and Kyle admired his bravery and honesty. He wished he was that brave, and perhaps he could be, but right now the weight of everyone's eyes on him was excruciating, and the only person he wanted to talk to was Cartman.

He heard Stan take a steadying breath beside him.

"Dude-"

"Hold on..." Kyle muttered, scrambling to his feet and rushing out of the room.

No one followed him, and Kyle was glad. He spotted Cartman strolling towards the elevator.

"Hey!"

Cartman looked over his shoulder with a puzzled dent in his brow, like he hadn't expected Kyle to come after him.

"What's up?" he asked, approaching Kyle. "Are you pissed at me?"

"No!" Kyle snapped, surprised by his instinctive response, his abrasive tone. He sighed, and tried to settle his thoughts. "No, I just..." he smiled, warm and shy. "That was really cool, actually. What you did back there. It takes guts to say that in front of all those people."

Kyle noticed Cartman's mouth twitch, his eyes glimmer, but he shrugged, covering up that slither of vulnerability.

"I would've had to have come out some day, anyway. Clyde just gave me a good opportunity to get it over with."

Kyle nodded, head bowing a little in disappointment.

Cartman sighed, and Kyle noticed him fidget. He stepped a little closer.

"I... I'm trying to be more honest," he replied. When Kyle looked up at him, his face was creasing a little, warring with himself. "That's what you wanted, right?"

"Yeah, but... you shouldn't do that just for me-"

"I know," Cartman cut in, resigned.

There was heavy, bloated silence. Cartman stared at his shoes, and Kyle scratched at his arm, afraid to talk, but afraid to part.

"Is that it?" Cartman asked, ever impatient.

Kyle didn't know, but his pride wouldn't allow him to stand in a hallway all night in the hopes he would find the words, or the courage.

"Yeah..." he nodded, and the word felt heavy in his chest. "Yeah, I think that's it."

"Okay." Cartman nodded in return. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, see you then..." Kyle replied, the words floated out of his mouth, as he watched Cartman walk away.

* * *

Kyle went back to Bebe's room in a daze. The game of 'truth or dare' was abandoned, as Cartman had seemed to do the impossible and actually win it with his candid confession. Kyle wasn't in the mood for games, anyway. He wasn't in the mood for much at all. He felt antsy, and impatient, and petrified, like he imagined people who went skydiving feel just before they're about to jump. He had gotten this far, reached this high, Cartman had taken the leap and was waiting for him. Or at least, Kyle hoped he still was. Cartman just seemed resigned in the hallway, the last stubborn, spark of optimism about his chances with Kyle snuffed out. Was it too arrogant to assume Cartman would welcome Kyle's own confession? Would he still want this? Kyle had no idea, so he stewed in Bebe's cramped, increasingly warm hotel room, letting conversation, and music drift into his ears, happy for the party to continue around him.

"Hey, Kyle..." Bebe said, suddenly in front of him with a sympathetic smile.

He blinked, returning the smile.

"Hey..."

"I just wanted to say sorry about Clyde." She had folded her arms across her chest, and was playing with a loose thread on her shirt. "It was pretty shitty to ask Cartman that-"

"Why are you apologising?" Kyle cut in, curious rather than curt. His eyebrows furrowed. "He's not your responsibility."

More than anything, he hoped he didn't sound like a hypocrite when he said that.

"I know, but he really does feel bad."

Kyle pressed his lips together in a small, forgiving smile.

"Well, thanks, anyway..."

Bebe nodded, and joined some people looking to get fresh air out on the balcony.

Stan sighed beside him. Kyle could've almost forgotten he was there. God, he really wasn't much to use to anybody right now.

"Dude, don't let what Cartman did get to you."

"It's not getting to me!" Kyle snapped, but he was tired of denying the affect Cartman had on him. "If he has a crush on me, that's his problem."

Stan nodded, wary and unconvinced.

"And you're sure you don't feel the same way?"

"Jesus Christ! What does it even matter to you?" Kyle sighed, his whole body slouching, being this defensive was exhausting, and it felt like the final push he needed to tell Cartman how he felt. "I'm gonna go..."

He leapt off the bed, and Stan tugged at his arm.

"Kyle, come on-"

"It's okay, I just..." Kyle shook his head. "I-I-I can't stay here anymore. See you later."

Stan's grip grew lax, and Kyle slipped his arm out of it.

"Yeah, see you later..."

Leaving Bebe's room, Kyle felt like he was in freefall, exhilarated and energised as he marched down the corridor. He waited for the elevator with a jittery, impatient leg. Stood in the car when it finally arrived, the slow ascent was driving him crazy, shaking, and his stomach swooping with adrenaline, or nerves, or fantastic, building relief. When he reached his desired floor he spotted Cartman's room immediately, and took another calming, shuddering breath as he strode towards it, purposeful and possessed by this admission he had to get out.

His palms were sweaty when he knocked on the door, and it was only while he waited did he consider he had knocked too loud. But it succeeded in getting Cartman to rush to answer it.

Kyle's throat clenched at the sight of Cartman's surprised face, a tiny, confused crease in between his eyebrows.

"Hey, what are you-"

"Truth," Kyle cut in, heart hammering at his ribcage.

"Huh?"

"Truth!" Kyle snapped, skittish and shaking.

"Dude, are you shitfaced-"

"No, I'm not! You said you're truth earlier, so now it's my turn!"

Kyle cringed at his words, and Cartman's smirk wasn't helping. He began to nod.

"Okay," he replied, crossing his arms and resting his shoulder against the door jamb. "Hit me..."

"Alright... um... my truth is..." Kyle pursed his lips, praying for the wobbling in his voice to stop. He glanced down at his fingers, wringing themselves in front of him, and then looked up. "I like you. I like you a lot, Cartman, and... I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say it out loud, and I'm sorry we had to go through all this shit to get here, but I was freaked out."

Kyle felt lighter already, and he didn't know if it was the shock of his words that was making him feel so weightless, or Cartman's stunned face, parted lips and total silence. But he had so much more to give, emboldened to keep going.

"I... I, I was freaked out by how I felt, and how fast it all was, and I was scared that maybe we had got it wrong about the game, and when you tried to kiss me that one time in my room, I was fucking terrified... of change, and what it all meant, but I... I shouldn't have treated you that way. I should've thought about what I was doing, or maybe I shouldn't have been so afraid to make a move, maybe I should have gone with my instincts..." he shook his head, his voice was cracking, and his face was creasing in earnest. "I don't know, I haven't figured it all out yet. I don't know if I like boys, or boys _and_ girls, but I sure as hell like you, and that's all that matters to me right now. I've never felt like this before, and it was weird because it was you, and _us_, and I never expected it... and because it was weird I thought it was wrong, and it fucking scared me because it didn't feel wrong. It felt right. I just didn't want to believe it. But I would love it if we..." he sighed, stammering, and shy all over again. "I-i-if we could give this a shot-"

Kyle whimpered, eyes flying wide open when Cartman tugged at his shirt and crashed their lips together. But his eyes soon slipped shut, grasping at Cartman's shirt too and returning the kiss just as hard, ecstatic.

"Is..." Kyle was panting. "I-i-is that a yes?"

Cartman chuckled, chest heaving, face flushed and beaming.

"Of course it's a yes, dumbass..."

They kissed again, Cartman pulling Kyle into the room with leading lips. The door slammed shut behind them, and Kyle was soon pushed up against it with Cartman's hands all over him - tugging at his shirt, fingers brushing bare skin, pressing against sensitive spots, and cupping his face, because this was finally _real_, just like Cartman wanted; and as Kyle's tongue brushed against Cartman's, as he grasped at his hair, and sunk his teeth into his plump, bottom lip, he knew that skydiving, and the Universum, and Amber, and Paul could never be as thrilling, _or_ fulfilling, as his lips and body pressed so close to the guy he was crazy about.

"Come on..." Cartman whispered, hot against Kyle's mouth, tugging and stretching at Kyle's poor shirt as they stumbled in the direction of his bed.

Kyle felt one big swoop in his stomach when they landed on the small, hotel bed, heart fluttering as they laughed together, reminiscent of their game of Twister only a week ago. Kyle pulled back to look at Cartman, his body in between Kyle's thighs, and his heart fluttered at the flushed cheeks, hazy eyes, and giddy grin below him, too adorable for Kyle not to lean down and plant a kiss on his lips.

He was already turned on, but Cartman's dirty, eager, enthusiastic kisses were making Kyle harder by the second. He had never been kissed like this before, had never felt so wanted, and powerful, in control and losing it all at once with Cartman writhing, and panting below him, whimpering when their frenetic tempo allowed it. The possibility that they may have sex tonight did occur to Kyle, and it terrified and delighted him. He reached for Cartman's zipper with shaky, desperate hands and didn't protest when Cartman shoved him on to his side so he could do the exact same thing, and he keened to his touch.

They were snapped out of their reverie by the sound of footsteps outside, and the door beeping as a keycard was slotted in. They pulled back with wide eyes, frozen. Without even thinking Kyle rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a thump.

"Kyle, what the fu-"

Cartman was interrupted by the door opening.

"Clyde! How the fuck did you get that keycard?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, burying his face into the carpet because this couldn't get any worse. He lay perfectly still, and listened to the conversation.

"Kenny gave it to me! A couple of us are going down to the pool, and he wanted his cigarettes-"

"I don't give a shit what that lazy prick wants! That's not cool! He can come up here himself, and fucking knock first!"

"Dude, chill, it's just... were you about to jerk off?"

There was a short, uncomfortable silence as Cartman considered his answer. Kyle grumbled under his breath. Why the hell should he have to explain himself, anyway? And why the fuck was Kyle hiding, surely he was done with that now...

"Y-y-yeah, I was actually!" Cartman snapped. "So if you don't mind..."

"Shit, dude, I'm sorry. Can I just-"

Clyde forgot his sentence completely when Kyle stood up, appearing from under the bed.

"Kyle? What..." he glanced between him and Cartman, and his shoulders hunched when it dawned on him. "Oh... I really am interrupting something, aren't I?

Kyle glanced at Cartman, who was smirking and just as surprised as Clyde.

"Yeah, you were..." Kyle replied, remembering his pants and fixing them. He could feel his cheeks and the tips of his ears burning, but he tried to be cool. "What is it you wanted? Kenny's cigarettes?"

Clyde nodded, mouth clamped shut and face beet red.

"Okay..." Kyle nodded, spotting the cigarettes on the nightstand and tossing them to Clyde. "Here..."

"Thanks... " he said, fumbling with the pack in his hands. He started to back out of the room. "Sorry... I'll let you two get back to... uhm, yeah..."

The door clicked shut, their gazes drawn to each other once they were alone again. They laughed, soft and disbelievingly to themselves.

"That was fucking cool..." Cartman grinned, climbing off the bed.

Kyle chuckled, staring down at his shoes as Cartman approached him. When he looked up, he was in front of him again, shy and hazy.

"You've got some... fluff..."

"Oh..." Kyle murmured, raising a hand to his face but Cartman was soon picking off every individual bit of fluff stuck there.

Kyle smiled, lips pressed together as Cartman worked and once he was finished their lips met again, soft, and slow, it made Kyle's whole body tingle.

"I think the moment has passed..." he whispered when their lips separated, foreheads pressed together.

"Yeah..." Cartman sighed. "Fucking Clyde..."

"Maybe it's for the best. We could always..." Kyle shrugged. "Do it when we get home."

Cartman blinked, disappointment vanishing.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Kyle replied, chuckling helplessly. His heart was racing at the prospect. "Do you want to?"

Cartman nodded, and kissed Kyle again.

"Do you think Clyde will tell everyone what he saw?"

"Probably," Kyle replied, matter-of-fact. He grinned, and tugged Cartman closer. "But I don't care..."

"Me neither."

* * *

**A/N: **_One more chapter to go! We're almost there! Thank you to everyone for sticking around, and thank you for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts, and I hope you enjoyed!_


	10. Chapter 10

Clyde did, in fact, tell everyone. Or at least, he told the right people guaranteed to tell everyone else. The consequence of this, was Stan hardly speaking to Kyle and barely looking at him. Kyle knew the silent treatment wouldn't last for too long. He was pissed at Stan's behaviour and what the hell gave him the right to be mad at Kyle for simply liking someone, but he still itched to talk to him, for things to be back to normal. Beneath Stan's scowls Kyle knew he felt the same, and he could confirm it for a fact too if Stan just fucking _looked_ at him.

Kyle, impatient, hoped a truce would be called before they headed to the Grand Canyon. They wouldn't be alone until the evening, and he hated the thought of not speaking to Stan all day. Hope was dwindling however, as they were both pretty much ready and Cartman and Kenny would be meeting them soon.

"Did you have fun at the pool last night?" Kyle asked from the bathroom, like a well-meaning parent trying to engage with their moody teenager.

"Not really..." Stan replied. In the mirror, Kyle could see him sat on his bed and tying his shoes laces. "Everybody was talking about you and Cartman."

Kyle bit back a sigh, and went about brushing his teeth. Stan didn't make any attempt to talk to him until he had left the bathroom.

"What the hell happened, Kyle?"

"Last night?" he asked, surprised by the question and unsure what details to give... he didn't think Stan _wanted_ details. He shrugged. "Nothing, we just kissed and... what did Clyde tell you?"

Stan grimaced, and shook his head.

"No, I'm not talking about that. I meant, what happened to _you_! You told me you didn't like him..."

Kyle huffed, incredulous, as if his reason for withholding this information wasn't sat right in front of him, looking at him with disgust and disappointment.

"Well, maybe I was having a hard time accepting it... maybe I didn't want you to react like you are right now!"

Stan blinked, frowning.

"I can't help it, Kyle..."

Kyle crossed his arms, fidgeted. They seemed to have reached an impasse.

"Yeah, well, me neither..." he muttered.

He didn't mean to sound like a dick, it was the truth. But Stan still glared at him. There was a brisk, demanding knock at the door, and they glanced at each other warily, both knowing who it was.

"I'll get it..." Kyle offered.

Opening the door to Cartman, Kyle couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. It felt long overdue, like he had been wanting to smile at Cartman just like this for longer than he realised.

"Hey..." Cartman said, smiling too.

"Hi..."

"Hi!" Kenny grinned, with a small wave in between the two of them. He peered into their room. "You guys ready?"

Kyle nodded.

"Yeah, I just need my phone..."

Cartman and Kenny followed him inside, and shared concerned looks with Kyle as Stan sat, stiff and grumpy, on his bed.

"Hey, Stan..." Kenny said.

Stan looked up and nodded.

"Hey..."

"What's up with you?"

Stan's eyes widened, his arms outstretched, looking between his friends like he no longer recognised them.

"What?!" he yelled. "Can we stop pretending something huge hasn't fucking happened? Can we acknowledge this please?!"

Kenny was nodding.

"Okay, we'll acknowledge it. Cartman and Kyle are dating. Happy now?"

Stan took - what was supposed to be - a calming breath. He had lowered his arms, placing his hands on the edge of the mattress.

"No..."

Kyle sighed too, exhausted and uncomfortable. The opportunity for a truce before breakfast had well and truly slipped away from him now.

"Come on, Stan..."

"Why the hell do you even care?" Cartman asked.

Stan glared at him, and Kyle prepared himself for the possibility he may have to stop Stan from launching at his boyfriend-

_Boyfriend_.

Cartman was his boyfriend. He had to smother the laughter rising in his chest at how weird and delighted that made him feel.

"Because you're the biggest asshole in the world and you're dating my best friend!" Stan cried. "I..." he shook his head. "Can we just get out of here please?"

"Sure, let's go..." Kenny murmured.

They all headed out, with Stan in front and Kenny wisely catching up to him. He was probably the only friend he could bear to be around right now. As the door clicked shut behind Kyle, he heard their conversation from down the hall.

"You're really okay with this, Kenny?"

"Yeah, I think they're cute together."

"Cute?!"

Kyle loved Stan, but he really wished he could trade best friends right now. He was trying to keep some distance from him, strolling down the hall with Cartman by his side.

"Jesus, I didn't realise I needed super best friend approval..." Cartman muttered.

"He's just in shock, that's all," Kyle replied, hoping more than knowing that was true. "He needs more time to get used to this. Just don't antagonise him, okay?"

He had reached out for Cartman's hand, fingers brushing together. It was an instinctive, sub-conscious punctuation mark to his request.

"Alright..."

Cartman wrapped his fingers around Kyle's. Their hands intertwining with a gentle squeeze.

* * *

A truce before breakfast was off the table, but by lunchtime Kyle was confident that he could get Stan to come around, thaw him out of his frosty mood. Even if this was due to them being absolutely terrible at the silent treatment, rather than Stan actually accepting the fact that he and Cartman were dating, Kyle didn't care. He'd take it. Hell, even if the scorching desert heat, and piercingly bright sky was responsible for Stan's bad mood melting, he would still take that as a win.

He had stayed close to Stan all day, even if Cartman's company was as alluring and tempting as a desert mirage right now. He thought it would be the best way to ease them all into the new normal, and logically, it made sense that Stan was more likely to actually talk to Kyle if he was by his side.

So now they were shuffling along the Grand Canyon skywalk with the rest of their classmates, forgoing selfies with the canyon as a background to peer over the railing, staring into the magnificent, shadowy abyss where the sun disappeared.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

Stan nodded, pulling back before Kyle. His face was tinged with an unmistakable green. "Yeah..."

Kyle fumbled for conversation, and remembered the mints in his shorts pocket.

"You want a mint?"

"What?" Stan asked, still a little woozy. "Is it my breath?"

"No, no, you're breath is fine, I... I just remembered I had some-"

"Okay, thanks," Stan cut in, holding out his palm.

Kyle watched Stan pop the mint in his mouth, and chewing it seemed to distract him from the dizzying height they were currently at. His hair was fluttering in the flimsy, gasping breeze, and he was squinting out into the horizon.

Kyle, meanwhile, was fidgeting in this new, unnecessary dynamic. Hanging out with Stan came was easy to him as breathing, and he hated it being anything but that.

"Dude, you're not still pissed at me, are you?" he sighed. "This whole silent treatment thing sucks."

"No, I'm not..." Stan rolled his eyes and lowered his head, but thought better of it when he remembered the floor was transparent. "I'm not pissed at you, I'm pissed at the situation. I'm... " he sighed. "Just worried you're going to get hurt."

Kyle appreciated the concern, but it was not as if he hadn't considered the possibility of getting hurt by this before. But denying himself this seemed far more painful than any damage Cartman could do.

"Well, if I do then you can tell me you told me so."

Stan rolled his eyes.

"Kyle-"

"Dude, I mean this in the nicest way possible but you're not the authority on what's right for me, okay? I don't know where the hell this is going to go, and I don't wanna think too far into the future. All I know is this is the right thing for me today... and if... somewhere down the line this blows up in my face I'd really appreciate it if you could be there."

"I'll... I'll always be there for you, no matter what," Stan mumbled, as if the volume of his voice decreased his sincerity. "I just want you to be happy. Cartman makes you happy?"

He looked up at Kyle with an arched eyebrow, bracing himself for the answer.

Kyle glanced over Stan's shoulder to see Cartman messing around with Kenny in the distance. He was trying to hoist him over the barrier, while Butters watched on, nervous and sweating.

"Yeah, he really does..."

Stan nodded, and smiled.

"Then I guess it's none of my business," he said with a shrug.

Before Kyle could thank him, or say anything mushy, Kenny was calling them over.

"Guys! Picture!"

So Kyle clapped Stan on the shoulder, before they joined Cartman and Kenny for their commemorative skywalk photograph.

* * *

For the first twenty four hours of their new relationship, Kyle didn't really have much alone time with Cartman. Their hotel rooms were on different floors and they were pretty much constantly surrounded by their friends, or their classmates or their teachers, and Kyle wasn't big on PDA. They held hands, finding each other in a crowd, they bumped their knees together at breakfast, wrists touching when they sat down next to each other at the table, and it was so instinctive that Kyle wondered how this could have ever been wrong.

Kyle had hoped to sit next to Cartman on the bus ride back, but was unsurprised when Stan beat him to it. He hoped the tall seats and the long journey would give them some kind of privacy, to steal a couple of kisses and maybe talk about what they had planned to do when they arrived home. Kyle knew a formal arrangement wasn't made, a specific time or place, and of course he wanted spontaneity but ever since those feverish kisses in Cartman's hotel room, Kyle couldn't stop thinking about what would have transpired if Clyde hadn't interrupted them, and he felt like he needed to vocalise those thoughts, or just _fucking do something_, before those thoughts ate him alive. Despite Heidi's sound advice, he was still prone to over-thinking, and probably always would be.

But right now, he was having dinner with his parents and Ike, exhausted from the gruelling bus journey, and fielding all their questions about his trip. He wondered if he should mention that he had returned home with a boyfriend, and that his new boyfriend was Eric Cartman, but he decided that was too much information to relay when he had only just got back, and he wasn't really up for answering the questions that would inevitably follow such an announcement.

But just like he knew he was thinking about him, Kyle's phone buzzed in his lap. A text from Cartman.

_"hey my mom's leaving for work in about 30 mins. Wanna come over?"_

Kyle froze, his mind racing as he considered his answer and all the possible connotations behind the message, though he knew - and _hoped_ \- it could only be about one thing.

_"not that im desperate" _Cartman added, before sending another. "_fuck i really want u"_

Kyle gulped, breaths catching in his throat. He felt like he was burning up, and he prayed it wasn't noticeable.

"Kyle, bubbe, no phones at the table."

He jolted at the sound of his mom's voice.

"Sorry..." he murmured.

He responded to Cartman with quick, quivering fingers.

"_See you in half an hour"_

Kyle could barely finish his dinner, body brimming with nerves and excitement. His mom was concerned by his lack of appetite, but he assuaged that worry by offering to do the dishes. At least it helped him settle his mind a little. Before he left his house he rushed upstairs to grab his jacket and a couple other items, and walked the short distance to Cartman's house.

He knocked on Cartman's door, his palm hot and damp despite the cold evening, but still he shivered... and waited. After a couple minutes he knocked again a little harder, and considered just walking right on in when Cartman answered the door, flushed and panting. Kyle blinked, the sight was as calming as it was endearing.

"Are you okay?" he asked, laughter in his voice.

Cartman nodded, swallowing to catch his breath. He grinned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great. I've just been... come on, I'll show you."

He wrapped his fingers around Kyle's wrist and pulled him inside, leading him upstairs. Kyle struggled to keep up with Cartman as they rushed up the stairs, expecting to trip over his own feet and faceplant the step below. He didn't think Cartman could even move that quickly. But at least the hasty, excited thumps of their feet filled up the silence. When they reached Cartman's hallway, the walk to his bedroom felt clunky and serious, and Kyle felt as though he could hear what was going through Cartman's mind in the thick silence.

Cartman opened his bedroom door with a small smile and bright eyes, holding the door open for Kyle to step inside. Kyle couldn't help but frown, wondering what was so special about Cartman's room. But when Kyle stepped inside, his lips parted in astonishment. The lights were off, the room dimly lit by what seemed like a thousand candles - tiny, flickering tea lights, and tall, melting sticks alike - placed on Cartman's nightstand and desk, and there were carefully plucked petals strewn all over his bed.

"What... how... h-h-how did you..."

It may have been the gentle aroma of scented candles and flowers making Kyle's nose sting, but it didn't explain the prickling in his heart, or the pleasant warmth in his gut.

"My mom had the candles under the sink in the bathroom..." Cartman replied, stepping closer. "And I think Richard bought her those flowers..."

Kyle had never experienced this kind of gesture, and effort, and... _romance_... before. Not even with Heidi, but Cartman was different, and it only drew Kyle closer to him. He had no idea what to say, so he said:

"She's gonna be pissed."

Cartman shrugged, shyer than Kyle had ever seen him.

"I can handle it. Besides, you're worth it..."

He smiled, finding Kyle's waist and pulling him closer. Kyle could only smile in return, lips pressed tightly together, lost for words once again.

"Is it too much?" Cartman asked, doubt creeping into his voice.

Kyle blinked, and shook his head.

"No... no, it's really sweet..." he placed his hands on Cartman's upper arms, and looked into his eyes to show he meant it. "Thank you."

Kyle supposed that even though some of these new developments in their relationship were coming so naturally, some would take a little more time to get used to... such as affectionate, romantic gestures like these. It was then Kyle remembered the items in his jacket pocket.

"Oh, um... I brought these..."

He pulled back from their loose embrace to pull out a small tub of lube, and a condom from his pocket.

"I wasn't sure if you had-"

"Oh, I did, but... that's cool." Cartman nodded, smiling still. "Thanks..."

Kyle looked down at the items in his hand, and placed them on Cartman's nightstand. He felt a little dumb just standing there holding them... he felt a little dumb just standing there, period. So he sat on Cartman's bed, the mattress squeaking slowly beneath him. It emboldened Cartman to join him. Their legs were pressed together, their hands were in their laps, as if the reality of what they were doing was pervading the room as much as the incense Cartman had lighted. The line they were about to cross was clearly marked, and on the other side there were sparkling waters, or a spectacular, breath-stealing drop, heaven, or nirvana, or paradise.

In the game they had been so bold, colliding without preamble and rolling with every kiss, suck, bite, and caress. Maybe they had achieved more dissonance from their actions than Kyle had thought, because while he was sure Cartman's kiss, touch, his hand down his pants could make him forget his own name, he had never felt more aware of his surroundings, aware of the situation he was currently in than he did right now.

They only felt brave enough to look at each other.

"So-"

"So-"

"You go..." Kyle offered when their words collided.

"Um, I was just gonna say that... I've never done this before. So if you could take the lead..." Cartman looked up, voice humid and smile small. "I'd like that."

Kyle arched an eyebrow, surprise melting into intrigue. Despite how much he had been thinking about this in the last couple of days, it was difficult for his mind to grasp the logistics.

"You would, huh?" he asked, the corners of his mouth piquing upwards.

Cartman nodded, earnest enough for Kyle to rein in the flirtiness. They wanted to be honest, and it seemed so crucial now.

"This is kinda new to me too," he admitted.

"So... what do we do now?"

Kyle thought back to his first time with Heidi, his first time in the game, and shrugged.

"Kissing is a good start..."

Cartman's eyes brightened, and Kyle was already leaning in. His eyes drifted shut when their lips met, a softer clasp than they were used to, not as urgent, or desperate as before, but that enthusiasm was still there; reassuring, considerate, and lovely now that their feelings were out in the open, now that they had the night ahead of them. Kyle had slid his hand to the nape of Cartman's neck, fingers gliding into his hair and clutching a handful when Cartman slid his tongue into his mouth. They kept up that slow, savouring tempo for a while, with playful brushes of tongue and tempting smacks. Their faces were burning, heated by candlelight and warm kisses. Kyle pulled back only slightly to unzip his jacket and peel it from his shoulders, but before he could return to Cartman's lips, he had stood up.

Kyle blinked, in a daze. He remembered Cartman standing up in Bebe's hotel room and was half-expecting another out-of-the-blue revelation, but instead Cartman lifted his t-shirt over his head, discarding it on the floor. Kyle felt his eyebrows draw together again, his hazy mind still trying to piece together what was happening right now. Was _this _the revelation? Cartman standing shirtless in front of him? It wasn't as if Kyle hadn't seen this before, they'd had gym class together for years... then again, Cartman did always change quickly. This was the longest Kyle had ever seen him without his shirt on, and when he tore his eyes away from Cartman's round belly, brown nipples, and flushed chest and looked at his face, he saw he was fighting hard not to purse his lips, or wrap his arms around himself.

Kyle gulped, standing up too, opposite each other. Cartman's eyes were trained on him as he lifted his own shirt over his head. He dropped it by his feet, and self-consciously fussed with his hair. Kyle's heart was pounding, goose bumps prickling on his skin as Cartman seemed to rake his gaze over every exposed piece of it. His lips were parted, their breathing soft and ragged but filling the room nonetheless. Cartman closed the gap between them, his every movement hypnotic, and up close Kyle noticed the humility in his face. Kyle had never known Cartman to be humble, he was reckless, and indulgent, but rarely careful. He was approaching Kyle like a priceless masterpiece that could shatter if he held him too tightly. He tilted his head and placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on Kyle's neck, tender and restrained. Cartman had never kissed him there before, and Kyle actually _gasped_ at the feeling, tipping his head, and only then did he start to nip, and lave, and nuzzle. Kyle's fingers had sunk into Cartman's arms, cock twitching in his pants that were only growing tighter. Cartman was wearing sweats that barely concealed the boner pressed right up against Kyle's hip.

His eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, his neck wet and no doubt marked. With laboured breaths he watched Cartman pull down his sweats, blinking when he realised he wasn't wearing any underwear. It felt like a boulder had pushed itself into his throat, and he couldn't stop staring at his cock. Cartman kicked the sweats from his ankles, looking up at Kyle with dark eyes that still gleamed with a strange kind of shyness. He sat on the bed in a way Kyle guessed was meant to be provocative; legs parted, palms resting flat on the mattress, cock stiff, and pink, and a delicate, pink flush started at Cartman's chest and travelled all the way up his neck, face, and his chubby cheeks. Kyle found it adorable, and emboldening, craving to connect with him. He grinned, delighted when Cartman copied him, chewing his lip. He hastily unzipped his pants, hooking his fingers around the waistbands of his jeans and underwear and tugging them down. He kicked them from his ankles just like Cartman did, and he grinned approvingly, a grin Kyle just had to press his lips to. Before nerves could take hold, he shoved Cartman onto to the bed and climbed on top of him, pressing their lips and bodies together, and Kyle almost cried out, wet and anguished into Cartman's mouth, at how fucking _good_ their warm, bare skin meeting felt.

But instead he swiped at Cartman's mouth with his tongue, and kept him shuddering and writhing below him as he stroked his skin, and fondled love handles, and squeezed his thighs, rolled his hips even though Kyle felt like his brain was short-circuiting when Cartman arched his body to receive him. Curious, Kyle wandered away from Cartman's mouth, pecking at his jaw, nuzzling his neck, before his lips found Cartman's heaving chest. He kissed, and lapped at the moreish, salt-sweet taste he found there, lips parting into a smile against glistening skin when Cartman's whimpers were laced with chuckles. Kyle's curls were brushing against his chin. But when Kyle took a nipple into his mouth he was treated to a different noise from Cartman, a startled, choked noise that he wanted to hear again and again.

He sucked at the hard bud in his mouth, and could feel the vibrations of Cartman's moans and pants when his chest was rising and falling below his ear. But he was losing that wonderful traction below their waists, so shifted his body and raised his ass a little higher so he could continue to rut against him, harder and faster than before. Cartman kept up, bucking his hips and clamping his thighs around Kyle, making small groans of effort that were driving Kyle crazy. He grunted, teeth grazing against Cartman's nipple, and he cried out.

_"Oh fuck..."_

Kyle nodded, releasing his nipple and clambering up his body to smash their lips together. Eyes squeezed shut, noses pressed together, and Cartman was soon sucking at Kyle's tongue, hands roaming his writhing back. When they came up for air, Kyle took the opportunity to nip at Cartman's bottom lip, whimpering with the throbbing, hot piece of flesh between his teeth when Cartman grabbed his ass with both hands and squeezed. Kyle soon found himself rolled onto his side, head whirring at Cartman's sudden, ferocious confidence.

"What are you - _Aaah!_" Kyle cut himself off when Cartman wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking him off hard and fast already.

"Do you like that?" Cartman asked, taunting and sincere all at once. A hot whisper branded into his neck.

Kyle nodded, eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape. He prayed he wouldn't cum just yet, but that seemed impossible when Cartman was kissing his neck, and his hand was relentless. He blindly reached out, finding Cartman's sweaty hair and tugging so hard he feared he would pull it from its roots.

"_Cart.. unnh...Cartma...aah..."_

"That's it," Cartman whispered, husky and encouraging enough for Kyle to just finish all over his hand. "Come on..."

Kyle knew he wanted him to scream his name, and Kyle wanted to scream it too. It was begging to tear out of his throat.

"_Aah... aah, Eric!" _he instead yelled.

He didn't cum. Cartman (_Eric_. _Oh my God, I just called him Eric_) instead tipped his head up and kissed him, in too much disbelief to keep going. Kyle wanted to complain, but remembered he really wasn't ready to cum just yet. He rolled on top of him, straddling him this time, and placing one hand above his head to keep his balance as they kissed.

"You make my name sound so fucking good..." he whispered when they parted, tilting his head so their lips would brush together.

They were both grinning, both shaking, and Kyle reached between their bodies to grasp Eric's cock. He arched into Kyle's hand, threw his head back and cried out when Kyle jerked him off. The contortions his features made robbed Kyle's breath; the creased brow, the eyes clamped shut, the wrinkles in his nose, and the silent howl his mouth was stretched into, that startling, lightning storm of ecstasy bursting into a pleasurable downpour of moans, and knitted eyebrows, and burning cheeks, and parted, rosy lips. Kyle pressed his lips to them all - hairline, and brow, and cheek, chin, temple, nose, and finally returned to Eric's lips. He didn't falter, and his teeth came down hard on Eric's lip. He whimpered, and squirmed beneath Kyle.

"Shit..." Kyle muttered, Eric's reaction had startled him. He pulled back, his hand coming to a stop around Eric's cock. "Was that too hard?"

He peered at Eric's lips, noticing just how red, swollen, and sore his bottom lip in particular was, and placed his fingers there. He could feel the grooves of his teeth, the bright red indentions. Eric opened his eyes, topaz rings around yawning, black pupils. He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. With hazy, lidded eyes he stared at Kyle as he kissed his fingers, lapped at the tips. Kyle shivered, and shifted on top of Eric as he licked him like his favourite ice cream in summer. Kyle was melting just as fast.

"Do..." Kyle gulped. "D-d-do you want me to-"

"Fuck me, Kyle..."

Kyle choked on a breath, nodding because he could hardly talk. He could barely stand with Eric's request ringing in his ears. He felt a bit wobbly on his feet as he got up off the bed. He remembered their earlier reluctance, Eric's confession that this was his first time and how he requested Kyle take the lead, and snickered.

"You know for someone who has never done this before you sure know what you want..." he teased.

Eric smirked, picking up a petal and studying it between his fingers.

"I've been thinking about it..."

Kyle chuckled, noticing that a few of the petals had in fact stuck to Eric's side. He grabbed the condom and the lube from the nightstand, but studying the items in his hands he felt apprehension over his own inexperience rising in him all over again.

The mattress shifted, Eric was sitting up on his elbows.

"You okay?" he asked.

Kyle blinked, jolted out of his daze. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, um..." he pursed his lips, looked at his hands once more before returning his attention to Eric. "Have you done this before?"

"What?"

Kyle fidgeted, shifting a little and suddenly coy even though he was stood there naked.

"Prepared yourself... fingered..."

"Oh..." Eric nodded. "Y-y-yeah I have..."

Kyle nodded too, as if he was still deciding what to do with this information even though he knew what he wanted to ask. He glanced at the lube, before looking at Eric.

"Would you mind..." he said, approaching Eric and holding out the lube. "I've never, I... I-I-I don't wanna hurt you..."

Eric blinked, brows furrowed, but took the lube off Kyle. He glanced between Kyle and the small tub, and smirked.

"And what about when you put your dick in me?"

Kyle rolled his eyes but climbed back on the bed. This time, he sat on his knees in between Eric's parted legs.

"That's different..." he replied, smiling. "If you let me watch, I'll know exactly how you like it..."

Eric's eyes widened with intrigue. He sat up slightly, coating his fingers in the peachy pink lubricant. Kyle watched, with his heart thumping in his throat as Eric's hand moved between his legs, pushing a finger into his opening. He huffed, throwing his head back. His free elbow was resting on the mattress, his legs instinctively spreading wider. Kyle's own fingers twitched at his thighs, his cock aching and heavy. He was surprised at how quickly Eric added a second finger, moaning and quivering as he pushed his fingers deeper. Kyle was transfixed, watching his fingers find a steady, vigorous rhythm that had Eric panting, and whimpering, his teeth working his abused bottom lip almost as hard as Kyle had.

"Do..." Kyle began, his voice threadbare. "D-d-do you do this a lot?"

Eric nodded, his brow creased.

"Yeah... "

Kyle nodded too, even if Eric couldn't see with his eyes squeezed shut. Before he could tell himself otherwise, he started stroking his own cock.

"What do you think about... when you do it..."

"Lately... you..."

"Me?" Kyle almost moaned it, fisting harder at his cock. His hips trembled, meeting his palm. "Doing what?"

"Kissing me, t-t-touching me..." A groan escaped Eric's mouth, his legs were jerking a little. "Fucking me... just _you_..." he moaned, his free fingers grasping the sheets. "I-I-I think about you all the time..."

Kyle choked on a pleased gasp, tipping his head back.

"I-I-I think about you too..."

He blinked his eyes open, returning to reality. He reached for the condom he had placed beside him, tearing at the wrapper with his teeth and rolling it over his cock with shaking hands.

"Ready?" he pleaded, slathering some lube on his cock.

Eric nodded, sliding his fingers out so Kyle could connect with him again in a sloppy, desperate kiss.

"_Kyle..._"

"Okay..." Kyle murmured. "Let me just..."

He got into position and lifted Eric's shaking legs. They were both trembling, foreheads and noses pressed together, and Eric's nervous, delighted, _smouldering _eyes were blurring together. Kyle reached between their bodies to wrap his fingers around his cock, guiding it to Eric's opening.

He gasped as he pushed the head of his cock in, Eric tightening around him immediately.

"_Aaah, fuck!"_ he cried, throwing his head back.

Kyle was taking deep, laboured breaths against Eric's neck, and he bit his lip as he pushed deeper inside of him. Eric gasped, and moaned, and cursed above him but Kyle found his lips again, sharing balmy opened mouth kisses.

"_Shit..." _Kyle murmured. He nuzzled Eric's cheek, and he felt his fingers in his curls. "Okay?" he asked, looking into Eric's eyes.

Eric nodded, and Kyle started to thrust gently at first, encouraged by Eric's moans and whimpers to pick up his pace. Their skin was stinging from the sweat and friction, and Eric was gorgeous and rapturous below him.

"Is... i-i-is that good?"

Eric nodded, his face contorted with pleasure once more, fingers ensnared in Kyle's hair and dragging across his back.

"Yeah..." he moaned. "Just... d-d-don't stop..."

Biting his lip, Kyle rolled his hips harder and faster. The mattress squeaked beneath them and Eric cried out, scraping his nails across Kyle's back and clenching around his cock. Kyle could've blacked out, mouth agape against Eric's neck and whole body on fire. He somehow found it in him to place sloppy kisses there, dragging his tongue up his neck, and biting down on his earlobe.

"_Oh god... oh fuck... Kyle... Kyle!" _Eric screamed, with one last glorious arch as he came.

Kyle was sure Eric had pricked his skin with his nails, had pulled a few hairs out of his follicles when he came, but Kyle didn't care as he fucked him into the mattress and revelled at the sweet sound of his name being screamed in ecstasy. He didn't wanna think about Heidi right now, but he had _never_ made her sound like that, no matter how hard he tried. He soon followed with a broken shout, as Eric groaned and shuddered below him. He collapsed into Eric's feeble embrace, their bodies slippery with sweat and cum.

"_Oh God..." _Kyle moaned, propping himself up to press his lips to Eric's again, and ride out his orgasm with gentle, indulgent thrusts. Eric gladly welcomed him, tonguing at Kyle's lips.

They soon parted, Kyle rolled off Eric and collapsed next to him. Both drenched with sweat, both panting, and scraping for breath. Kyle felt like he could drift into the best, most blissful sleep he would ever have.

"That was... " Eric began, still trying to catch his breath. "That was so much better than the game... right?"

Kyle looked over to him, sensing Eric's eyes on him. His soaked hair was sticking to his forehead, his skin was glistening, and his smile was hopeful, lighting up his face. Too beat to talk, Kyle simply nodded, rolling on his side and bringing Eric's lips to his again. Their eyes met when their lips parted, brimming with disbelief and happiness, no virtual high could ever compare to it. Eric studied Kyle's face, and brought his hand to his jaw, rubbing it softly.

"Do you think you could grow a beard?"

Kyle hummed under his breath.

"I don't think my mom would like it if I did that..."

"So?" Eric asked with a cheeky grin. "She's not the one who has to make out with you..."

Kyle rolled his eyes, pressing his forehead to Eric's.

"I'll think about it..." he murmured with a smile.

They kissed again, already gearing up for round two.

* * *

**A/N: **_The end! Thank you so much to everyone for reading, following, favouriting, reviewing! This story has been so much fun, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! __Stick around for more oneshots, and maybe another multi-chapter in the not so distant future! Thank you again, and stay safe! _


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